Keep Your Enemies Closer
by Millenia Marik
Summary: BLU team has fled the area and left RED team alone with itself. With teamwork recently established, things should move along smoothly. ..right? Rated M for violence, language, & suggestive themes. See last chapter for notes. /Sequel!/
1. Act 1: Two Tracks

_This is a sequel to the story 'We're on the Same Team' which detailed the gradual formation of teamwork between the members of the Red team._

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

It was quiet in the kaboose.

Beneath his feet he could feel the clack and rumble of the train tracks buzzing under that smoothly insulated floor. It came through as a subtle hum and vibration so diminished that he had a hard time believing he wasn't standing still until he lifted his head and examined the slot-windowed door ahead of him. Yea.. that was the back of the train; beyond the bullet-proof glass he could see nothing but miles of track becoming swallowed up in the darkness of night.

Blu team, he knew, was mere feet away.

He stepped up to the door, adjusting his gloves as his tongue pushed the cigarette in his mouth from one side to the other. Blu team was asleep -- he'd just relieved their last guard and counted the routine number of minutes it would take for him to collapse into bed the same way he'd done for the past two nights. Like clockwork, he heard the distant click of a cabin lock, synchronizing it with the turning of the kaboose's door handle. He held its key in one hand, using the other to hold the door as he stepped out onto the back platform and pressed it shut behind him.

Autumn.. He felt its chilly midnight winds caress what little exposed flesh it could find, pale moonlight bringing a haunting glint to his green eyes as he watched the world fade behind the departing train. As smoke whipped away from his face, he bowed his head and tucked the key to the train into his suit jacket. Level 2 access -- second to the best. Rather impressive for a man who had only been a part of Blu team for a little over 65 hours..

His elegant shoes tapped the cold metal platform, his hands curling around the safety rail which swept around the back half of it. He could see the river from here as it curved and twisted in a path jaggedly pursuing the very train upon which he stood. It brought a smile to his face..

"Frère Jacques, frère Jacques.." he murmured as the dark water took a turn closer to the tracks, "Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?"

For the next fifteen minutes nothing happened -- he didn't expect it to. That is, of course, until he pulled his cigarette from his lips and chucked it as hard as he could toward the river. The tiny projectile whipped upward in the wind rolling off of the train and skidded across the surface of the gently-flowing water before beginning to capsize. In the blink of an eye, it left his visual range as train continued onward toward its secret destination.

Then something happened.

A dark shape disrupted the river water just beneath its surface, contracting and lengthening like the beads of oil in a lava lamp as it pushed itself forward with a speed rivaling that of the train. There was no way it would be able to catch up, he knew. But still.. being in sight.. That would be good enough, he thought as he lit a new stick and dragged slowly from it. Its scent filled his lungs and throat, relief hunching him over that safety rail as he exhaled with a confidant smirk.

"Ah, mon Ami.. Let us see zhe coming day together, non? Swim strong.."

Whoever he was talking to certainly wouldn't have heard him. He mumbled with a strange mixture of admiration and bristling anticipation. Soon the train would stop. Soon Blu team would start to deploy. And soon? ..soon he could get some real work done.

Back at the desolate bases, the Reds were still awake.

Many of the Blu prisoners had already been shipped back to HQ. They packed them into the trains like sardines, sending them shoulder to shoulder and keeping their weapons behind for their own use. It took nearly three trips to send them all away, the last train car being held back by a peculiar discussion occurring out of earshot of the other prisoners.

The Medic had his arms folded, his creased face stuck in its usual frown as he listened to everything the Red Sniper was saying to him.

"Besides, it's not like anyone's gonna miss him."

"Ach ja? And just vhat do you plan to do vith him? Give him hugs und kisses und ask him nicely to fight for us? Zhat vhill never work, put him on zhe train or shoot him. Is zhis so hard?"

"Eet would be an interesting endeavor, Doctor. Are you sure you are not the least bit curious to see if it can be done? He will be executed if he fails to comply, of course, no begging from Monsieur Sniper will prevent zhat."

The Medic adjusted his glasses, blue eyes staring down the Red Spy who stood beside the Aussie. After assuring that they weren't pulling some type of prank he resumed frowning, "_Fine_. Do vhatever you vhant. You two are responsible for his care and he is _not_ vhelcome in _my_ infirmary."

"Promise we'll even potty-train 'im, doc. No worries," the Sniper threw in with a winning smile.

The Medic simply sneered and turned on his heel with his coat swaying behind him as he staked off to send the train on its way.

"Hawhaw.." the Red Spy chuckled, lifting his cigarette to puff gently at it as he watched the Medic depart, "Zuch an upset man.."

"Well? Oy told you he wasn't gonna like the oy'dea."

"So why did you suggest it zhen?" he asked, looking toward the archer who had already started walking up the hall. The Spy simply tagged along.

"I dunno. I guess I don't feel like killin' 'im and I don't feel like lettin' 'im get off scott-free after messin' my face."

"Aw.. Don't worry mon Ami, you're still very pretty~" the Spy assured mockingly.

"Oh come off it."

"I will."

"You would."

Laughter followed the pair as they left the docking station together, night finally pulling its blanket over the Red base and putting those inside to sleep. All except the one or two remaining Sentries and one man.

That man lay flat on his back, glazed eyes staring emptily at the ceiling above them.

He couldn't sleep. How could he?

Shutting his eyes did nothing -- he tried to dream but all he could do was long to open them again and look around the confines of his room. A simple bed, a chair.. An empty dorm with a locked door..

He pushed himself into a seated position, unbuttoning his suit jacket and taking it off as he loosened his tie and stood up. Rubbing at his mouth with one hand, he considered removing the Blu mask skill hiding his face.. no. Despite whatever comforts it would bring him to take it off, it would still leave him feeling unsafe.

Pacing.. Pacing was something he could do.

After passing the door a good fifteen times, he stopped and laid a hand against it. It felt cold through his glove. Cold.. just like the rest of the base. It wasn't so much the creeping fall temperatures as much as it was the hollow feel of the hallways. The knowledge that there would be no rescue. That the Blu team had up and left. It wasn't a confirmed fact -- he'd only heard it covertly from an Engineer who had escorted him to the showers the other day. He was dying to know what was going on, his natural craving for intel driving him to the point of madness as he leaned against the door and pressed his forehead to the metal.

..He needed to get out of here.


	2. Act 2: Home Freakin' Pancakes

_Lost? Don't be, prepare for answers._

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

_P.S.: Curious as to what some of the boys look like? Check out the scraps section of my web site gallery located on my FF profile._

---

Morning crept up slowly over the men, a majority of whom slept in late for the first time in weeks.

The world was soft and quiet today.. Dim with autumn sunlight and peaceful with the occasional twitter of birds and gusts of winds sweeping through the empty battlements. Others woke like clockwork in this alien morning world only to realize that their usual schedules had been put on hold by the abrupt end to the fighting.

It was strange..

Like someone had pulled the plug and put a definite end to the game of life and death they had all been playing for so long. For many it was an entirely new experience -- one which left them unsure of how to act or what to do with themselves during the extensive downtime. They were free to walk the dusty grounds they once ran through, free to roam and relax in the enemy base..

As a matter of fact, that's exactly what the Red Spy was doing. He was standing in the labs again, looking around for clues -- Blu's clues, you might say.

He already knew two of the other Red Spies had boarded an enemy train, disguising themselves as Blus to roam undetected among them and discover their motives. The Tentaspy had been ordered to accompany them through the river as well and report back with news as soon as possible. ..but on the off chance that he did not, it would be wise to comb the Blu base again. Perhaps.. Perhaps something had been left behind? A note, a map.. anything.

His searches had all turned up empty thus far, his gloved hands annoyingly free of documents even as he stood at the heart of what had previously been a 'productive' Blu research facility.

-I am willing to bet it all began here..- he thought to himself as he adjusted his cloak and dagger.

A Demoman had done a number on the room -- likely to protect the research the Blus had so swiftly made off with. It was the reason why he tread with care over the shattered glass that had once been the fore wall of the Tentaspy tank and made sure to avoid the sparking electronic panels lining the walls. Inside he could still see puddles of water in the shallow areas where the grated floor passed into smooth metal and stone. Inky black liquid covered much of these areas, accompanied also by objects which reminded the Spy strongly of human bones..

His hip brushed one of the overturned medical cots.

Overhead he could hear open-ended wires sparking. Huh.. it would seem the Engineers hadn't yet shut off the power to this place. Perhaps it was for the best? He couldn't very well look around in pitch black conditions.

Footsteps caught his attention, hazel eyes peering over his shoulder to observe a Soldier walking his way. He was indifferent at first, but when he saw the man holding a half-burnt piece of paper in his hand, he furrowed his brow and turned more directly toward him.

"What have you found?"

"Spy you'd better have a look at this!" he forked it over promptly, hefting his spade in his free hand and gesturing to the scrap with it, "Looks like a map!"

"..Indeed eet does," he ran his eyes over it with intrigue before lifting them, "Where did you find zhis?"

"Down that hallway there.. It was in the trash. Those yellowbellies must have gotten_ scared _and ran before they could finished the job," the Soldier conjectured with a sneer.

"Ah, oui.. Nice work, comrade," he started walking with the paper, able to see much of what it depicted before the very edges blackened to ash. Mm.. It would take a bit of time, but with any luck they would know where to head next. If the Blu forces were not going to stay put, the Reds were simply going to have to follow them.

However, not _all_ of the Blu members were unaccounted for..

Still locked in his dorm room, the Blu Spy lay face-down on his bed. He'd been up most of the night, spending it sitting there and thinking. But, perhaps unfortunately, he lay incredibly still on the mattress..

_Knock knock knock!_

No reply.

_KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK._

Not a sound.

Soon the lock clicked, the door opening a sliver.. and then a bit wider to allow a Red Soldier clearance. He strutted right in and slammed the door rather loudly as he sneered toward the bed, "ROLE CALL, MAGGOT! _Get_ on your _**feet, **_soldier!"

There was utter silence from the man on the bed and after staring at him for a good thirty seconds, he decided to go and inspect, prodding him with his spade in the shoulder. The Soldier sighed gruffly and prodded once more, "Allllright.. Looks like someone forgot to feed the P.O.W." Disappointed by the man's sudden death, he turned about to go and inform the head Medic. Surely _he'd_ be happy to hear about a new dead body what with there being so few of them today.

The Blu Spy slowly turned his head toward the door, his left eye sliding open dangerously as he allowed the Soldier to fumble with his clumsy fingers for the key card he'd only just put inside his jacket.

So frustrated by his inability to remember which side of his jacket he put the damn thing in, the Soldier was too distracted to notice the Spy edging slowly off the bed and curling his hands around the legs of the plain chair that accented his otherwise empty dorm. Success! The key card was in his left breast pocket! "Hah! Right where I left it," the Soldier commended himself as he stepped up the door and promptly collapsed on the ground with a sickening smashing noise.

The Blu Spy discarded the remains of the ruined chair, hardly minding the blood seeping out of the Soldier's split temple as he crouched down and began to rifle through the man's belongings. He took his key card, he took his shotgun, he took his lighter, and he took one of the unlit cigars from inside his jacket.

"Grazie," he said thankfully, lifting it toward the man's unconscious body as he stood and stepped over him on his way out.

Down at the mess hall, the Red Sniper found himself among those that woke like clockwork. He adjusted his glove and peered at his watch. Huh.. 7:45. He couldn't believe how empty everything was. Usually even the Demomen were beginning to stir by now. His palms curled around his precious white mug, lifting it to his lips as he leaned forward on his elbows and narrowed his eyes to stare across the room as he took a sip.

Ah..

The warm sensation shooting down his throat forced him to shut his eyes fully and revel in the cozy feeling it spread through his stomach. Nothing was quite like coffee. Hot cocoa? Maybe.. Too sweet, however. Coffee never left a dirty feeling in his mouth, earthy perhaps, but dirty? Never. If no one else was going to join him in the mess hall that would be just fine by him; he had tranquility, he had peace, and he had coffee.

Somehow that combination proved too good to be true as he heard the mess hall doors slam open.

"_**FRIGGEN PANCAKES!**_" he heard hollered from the steps followed by the telltale patter of high-speed sneakers.

Lowering his mug, the Sniper sighed and looked behind him -- no doubt the Scout had already whizzed past him and indeed he had as evidenced by a chair which tipped and fell over belatedly in his wake. The older man couldn't help but smile, taking only a moment to think before he stood and headed after the energetic boy.

The sight that greeted him was like something out of a cartoon. The Scout (the blonde one, he noticed) was apparently trying to use all of his limbs at once to get things done faster than a mundane pair of hands. A shoe to pull open a drawer, a hip to bump another one shut. Elbows, ribs, wrists, and hands used to gather materials, reflexes used to dump it all on the counter and dive after two eggs which had slipped out of his grasp..

"Oh hey man!" the teen greeted as he stood straight and nudged his hat upward with a knuckle, "Yo, wassup?" Without waiting for an answer, he procured a mixing bowl and went to town making what looked like pancake batter -- either that or vomit.

The Sniper simply leaned against the doorway with a smile, crossing his ankles with comfort as he held his mug near his chest. They'd reversed roles, it seemed. This time tempers were more even and he felt no fear as he opened conversation with the Scout, "Friggen pancakes?"

"Hell yea, man, you know it!"

"And where'd you learn to make those?"

"Oh, my ma' taught me some stuff when I was growin' up," the blonde replied hastily as he pulled the countertop griddle out from a higher cabinet and set it up, "S'cuz I had sisters, ya know? ... ..didn't hear that from me," he warned.

"Not a word, mate," the Sniper assured, "You want a hand with that?"

"No."

The answer was incredibly abrupt.. In fact, it came so fast that it riled some suspicion!

"..really? Why not?"

"Dude, everyone on base knows you can't cook worth shit unless you killed it. And even then.." he made a wavering gesture with one hand, glancing at the Sniper and then pouring out a few pancakes on the griddle with the batter.

The Red Sniper made a very amusing face when the Scout wasn't looking but made sure to lift his coffee and drink from it when he did glance back to be sure he wasn't going to be shot for his comment.

"I see. ..the whole base?"

"Well, just a uh.. _couple_ uh guys, but _yea!" _he grew energized once more and went on, "You almost killed one uh the Spies apparently! Good game on that, dude," he said with a grin.

"Mm.. Oy guess I can't be good at everything."

"You havin' some uh this?"

"Nah, Oy'm good. Got my brew n' all, so--"

"Right, so I'll make you three, can you finish three?"

"Look, really, Oy don't wan--"

"They're really big, I'll just make you two -- you're old anyway, so I'll tone em down for ya'."

"Scout? _I'm _not interested."

"_Pancakes_," the blonde said insistently, jerking his spatula toward the cooking batter with a deathly serious frown.

".."

"..."

"..I'll have two," the Sniper muttered with a sigh as he went to refill his mug.

"Oh yeah! You'll see, dude, these things are so fuckin' awesome -- specially when _I_ make em.."

The older man shook his head, stepping back out into the empty mess hall and arching his back as he began to compile a to do list in his head. With the fighting -- the largest part of his usual day -- cut from his schedule, what else could he be doing? Or rather.. what _should_ he be doing? Morning exercise was already out of the way, coffee was a go, and breakfast would be occurring in some way or another whenever the Scout finished showing off in the kitchen.

..ah.

He smiled grimly as it came to mind, the one task he'd almost forgotten about: checking on and taking care of the Blu Spy. But that wasn't too important, was it? He was under lock and key inside a base filled to the brim with Reds unhindered by the distractions of war.

Surely it could wait until after pancakes.


	3. Act 3: The Invisible Man

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

"_**VHAT DO YOU MEAN HE IS MISSING?!?!"**_

The Sniper arched his shoulders with a grimace, leaning back as though trying to escape the burning gaze of the hot-tempered Medic in front of him while a Pyro and an Engineer eased the body of a dead Soldier onto a sheet behind him and prepared to carry it to the infirmary.

They'd all gathered in the Blu Spy's dorm room a few minutes ago at the Sniper's worried request, waiting on the Aussie's report after seeing him running off down the hallway holding onto his hat.

Apparently he'd been looking for the Blu Spy who had clearly escaped his room, the evidence of such now being covered over with the sheet and carried away. The look of dismay on the hunter's face made it quite clear that he'd found nothing, "Well look.. he can't have gone fah'. ..Oye mate, _no one _was supposed to come in this room."

"_Vhell_ somebody _did_, **Dummkopf**!" snapped the Medic as he stomped forward to invade the Sniper's personal space.

He swallowed with mild nerve, forced to step even closer to the enraged German as the two men behind him requested more space to clear the doorway. Tapping his fingertips against his side, he ground his teeth together and tried to think quickly.

"Oy told a few people to keep their eyes peeled, mate. Oy.. Oy'll go looking again until 'e's found, aw'right?"

The Medic advanced even further, frowning deeply and narrowing those icy eyes at him as he slowly lifted his right hand and poked the Aussie in the chest. Hard.

"You go and find him," he whispered quietly.. "Und dann? **YOU VHILL **_**KILL**_** HIM!**"

The Sniper flinched under the sudden onslaught of loud noise, watching the physician storm from the room and blaze a trail up the hallway with his rigid footsteps. He inwardly cursed himself as he too cleared the premises.

-It's my fault. Oy should have put out a notice to keep everyone away and Oy didn't. Should have.. Damn it, why was he even_ in _there? They know he's my damn prisoner. I told them not to go in there without _my _say. Damn it. Should have put up a sign or something..-

His own thoughts tormented him as he sneered and tore the Kukri from his back.

The Red base, though large, was the only one left with provisions. With nothing but desert for miles in either direction, he prayed the Blu Spy wasn't stupid enough to try and leave. No, no.. He'd stay nearby.. He'd stay and cause as much damage as possible with the end goal of moving with them when the trains came in for transport. That's what a Spy would do, right? Always thinking ahead.. just like him.

He passed under a ventilation shaft, unaware that he was being watched.

It went without consequence. The Sniper continued stalking up the hall and his secret observer merely leaned back away from the grate and took a long drag of his pilfered cigar. Damn did it taste good..

Of the provisions he had been given while in custody, smokes had not been among them. He longed for that gentle burn, that heart-warming heat and the taste of smoke on his tongue. But most of all? He longed for a set of calm nerves to overtake the jittery mess that had caused him to attack in such a sloppy, panicked fashion. He had it now in the darkness of that shaft, but he knew that even the best cigars wouldn't be enough to sustain him. What's more, they would not protect him from the bullets of the Reds.

-Ah, Monsieur Sniper..- he thought, eyes sliding shut as he leaned against the chilled metal. -Zuch a fool. You could have been rid of me when you had a chance, non? Zhere are no more prisoners here. I am all zhat is left..- His eyes opened, their honey brown hue subdued in the paltry light filtering in from the grate. Yes.. he was the last of the Blus. He'd been watching the halls since morning, waiting to see or hear of anything that might tell him of the Blu's status. It came in the form of a Scout yakking it up with a Pyro about how 'those Blu bastids were really gonna get it back at HQ'.

He glanced down at the cigar in his hand, smiling with renewed confidence as he tucked it between his lips and began to crawl down the length of the vent with a pace of relaxation. Next stop? The briefing room..

"I tell you, zhis is a sham! A detour!" the short Spy, now bearing a scarred cheek due to the Medic's insistence, shouted. He threw the laminated map down on the table and gestured around with his cigarette, "Look here.. Zhis part, here.." The remaining two Spies leaned forward to look, one being the Sniper's friend. "You see? Zhey have purposefully left zhe necessary bits untouched. Zheese was deliberately left for us in zhe hope zhat we would find and become misguided by it."

"Is eet impossible for zhem to simply have been stupid?" asked the many-cigged Spy -- he never could just smoke one at a time.

"Haw.." the Sniper's friend chimed, gloved hand put forward to snap up the map, "Now now.. Let us see what zhis map eez actually directing of to.. North of here. What eez _there_, anyway?"

The short Spy decided to humor the request, moving to the wall and pulling down a retractable area map as he puffed at his cigarette and took to inspecting it. "Well.."

"What?"

"Look. North eez a civilian territory," the short Spy concluded, looking back at his colleagues with a frown, "Zhey are dirty, but I do not zhink zhey would dare to base in zuch an area."

The Sniper's friend stood, rubbing his jaw line and joining the shorter man as he inspected the map. "Here," he said, reaching out to tap at the river with his index finger and drag it along its path, "Follow zhis. What do you see?"

"Zhere is nozhing out South."

"Oui," he said, sounding satisfied.

The third Spy could be heard getting up from his chair and adjusting all three of his cigarettes separately as he walked over, "Well?"

The Sniper's friend reached over to steal one of the numerous smoke machines -- it was characteristic of him to be so bold and the other Spies were rather used to it by now. It didn't keep the man of many cigarettes from frowning however..

"Jhentlemen? Zhink, if you will.. who made zhis map for us?"

The short Spy looked thoughtful, "Zhe government, I assume?"

"Which government?"

The multitasking Spy bent down to look at the copyright, "China."

"I highly doubt zhat," the Sniper's friend scoffed as he tapped off a bit of ash.

Brow furrowed with concern, the shorter Spy folded his arms and shrugged, "Well? Are you going somewhere with zhis?"

"Zhis map eez incorrect, Messieurs."

"Based on..?"

"Based on zhe fact zhat we have never been South, zhat it follows zhe river, zhat I know for a fact zhat zhe train tracks point Southwest, and zhat we are not in China by any means."

Silence swept between the other Spies as they exchanged long faces and puffs of smoke as if by Morse code.

"Zhis map is incorrect."

"Most definitely."

The Sniper's friend smiled and headed for the door as he shook his head, "Well.. I will go and see if our envoy has yet returned. Speak with zhe Soldiers.. No doubt zhey will order a scouting party right away to determine where we should go."

All in agreement, the Spies gathered up their papers and filed out of the room. The chairs were pushed in, the doors were locked, and the smoke slowly began to fade from the air. It wasn't until the automatic lighting shut down that the screws on the ventilation grate above the briefing table began to unscrew.

One by one they turned loose and fell to the tabletop below. The lights wouldn't come back on -- he assumed correctly that they operated by a timer system rather than motion to conserve electricity -- The Blus had operated similarly. And so, navigating by the light coming in under the door, he slowly lowered his slim body from the vent and gently pressed the toes of his shoes down on the tabletop. His heels were soon to follow, clicking gently against the floor as he stepped down from the table and ducked low.

From there he got right to work, using his stolen key card and a bit of hacking to gain access to the large safe which sat bolted to the far end of the room.

In utter silence, he sat and read whatever he could find. Supply manifests, building blueprints, shift schedules, body counts.. It looked like the Reds were even planning a rush on the Blu base. He smiled bitterly, knowing now that that plan may have already come to pass. But more importantly, he found something locked among the documents. A small, cherry wood box which he opened rather violently with the heel of his shoe.

It cracked noisily, causing him to hesitate behind a chair for a few moments on the off chance that someone outside had heard him.

That not being the case, his eyes fell back to the box as he opened it gingerly and smirked, 'Haw, haw, haw.."

His gloved fingertips danced over not one, but three Cloak & Daggers. One was obviously damaged and in need of repair -- he immediately recognized it as his own. But the others? He lifted them from the box, testing them after assuring they weren't rigged to explode. Huh.. They must have been collected off the bodies of fallen Spies -- either that or they were simply back-ups.

And so it went that by the time the grate slid precariously unscrewed back over the hole in the vent, the Blu Spy toted a Cloak & Dagger on either wrist and an excited grin on his face. The room was left just as he'd found it, the cherry box back inside the safe (albeit damaged) and the lights still off. The only indication that he'd been there at all was a cigar purposefully snuffed through the forehead of a picture of the Sniper from his Blu days.

Oh yes, he knew all about that now.

He knew about the Sniper, he knew about the Tentaspy -- he knew everything the Reds did and, perhaps, more..


	4. Act 4: Tensions

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

It was afternoon when the train slid to a stop, but it wasn't the end of the line.

The green-eyed Spy stepped off the platform and onto the surprisingly lush grass that grew along the railway. He was already smoking, attempting to stand alone from the other men who were exiting the train car behind him. He was one of them now -- at least outwardly -- and it would be key to _act_ like one of them as well. Cold, unassociated, disinterested in anything but information which, at this point, didn't seem forthcoming.

As far as he could tell, they were unloading in the middle of nowhere. Mountains loomed off in the distance, greenery peppering the area for miles with not a structure in sight as far as the eye could see and, perhaps, even farther..

A Scout shoved past him, nearly hitting him as he slung his bat up onto his shoulder, "Fuckin' sticks.."

"Watch your step,_ boy_," the Spy snapped, earning a sneer from the uppity teen who spat down at his feet. There was no further confrontation, but no one was handing out hugs either. The sound of running engines greeted his ears as he moved around the forming mass of Blu troops and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. Ah.. A convoy of halftrack trucks appeared to be approaching. Perhaps this wasn't their destination after all..

"MEN!" he heard shouted from the crowd.

A few turned, nudging those next to them and getting their attention as well while everyone began to focus on the Soldier who had yelled.

"In _formation_, maggots, I want you all prepped and ready for your joy ride. Move it, move it up, this tea party is OVER." No one looked particularly thrilled, though in about three minutes all of the classes separated themselves into groups. Spies with Spies, Pyros with Pyros, the whole lot. The undercover Spy noticed a severe lack of Medics. In fact, he noticed that there wasn't a single one in sight..

During his sweep of the crowd, he locked eyes with an Engineer. A hint of a smile was on the man's face. Ah.. He recognized him immediately as his team mate, one who had voluntarily removed his mask for the sake of a more convincing disguise. It was the same man who had stopped the Sniper in the hallway all those weeks ago and sent him packing with a briefcase locked to his arm. He and the green-eyed man were two of the most veteran members of Red team and the senior-most members of the Spy class. What they were doing now was incredibly dangerous though both men understood the risk and turned their eyes back toward the Soldier who was moving down the lines correcting postures and prattling off information.

Both Reds made sure to listen.

"Listen up, maggots! I want all of you in these trucks pronto. Neck to neck, shoulder to shoulder, _eyeball to eyeball_. I don't want to see any waving, I don't want to see any limbs outside the vehicles at _any_ time." The Scout section groaned. How young and stupid did this Soldier think everyone was? The Demoman section seemed to be having trouble standing straight, but they seemed equally unimpressed with the kiddy advice.. "Pyros, you board with Spies. Heavies.. I want one of you at the back of every truck. Scouts?" And on it went until everyone had been assigned.

The trucks finally arrived, their drivers unseen from behind the tinted glass that composed their windows. It was only a little bit unnerving, but the Blu team loaded themselves onboard with supplies in the front and men in the back like cargo. Needless to say, it felt a bit awkward being pressed so snuggly against the shoulder of an enemy Spy, but it was offset by the presence of his comrade in a truck off to his right.

Neither dared to look at the other after a single glance and throughout the drive to follow, they simply kept their heads down like everyone else.

The green-eyed Spy could see the train moving again, continuing along the tracks -- a decoy, most likely. He could see trail dusters hanging down from the halftracks, watching them sweep away their tire tracks as they moved away from the railroad and off into oblivion. The river faded with every foot they moved, soon winking out of his line of vision as they took a sharp curve away from it.

The Tentaspy lurked just beneath the surface of the water, rising only after the train departed.

Damn..

The trucks were moving away and their dust trails prevented him from seeing anything of value other than their general direction -- due South. Despite squinting, he could see no feasible destination from here save for the distant mountains. But mountains? Not very conducive to fighting., Surely something else had to be out there. Something that he would have no hope of reaching in his current state.

He still panted, the exertion of being awake and moving for 24 hours at a time having ravaged his body through and through. Spies were not built to stay awake and power nap like Snipers, they were not built for feats of strength and stamina. ..but they weren't built with tentacles either.

Still, he crawled numbly toward the bank and dragged his torso up into the grass where he collapsed and tried to calm his quaking nerves.

He felt starved, shaky, and worst of all? ..he felt weak. Surely he would be an easy target if spotted. His tentacles were burned out from all of the swimming, his human lungs and aquatic gills both working in tandem to try and steady him as he lay there with closed eyes and a pathetic grimace. Well.. He'd gotten what he came for -- enemy positioning.

There would be no chance of following them further and he realized with slow acceptance that he should begin heading back. Huh.. Another three day journey? He shuddered both from cold and reluctance, hunger pangs hollowing him out and leaving him feeling predatory. Perhaps a four day journey would be more feasible -- he badly needed to restore himself and the first thing on his to do list basically spoke for itself:

He needed to go find something to eat.

Thirty minutes later, he fell into some interesting lines of thought. Who knew bear meat was so sweet! And, for that matter, who knew they could bite hard enough to actually rip one of your tentacles off?

The lost limb twitched feebly below him, tied off with his own suit jacket as he attempted not to think about it. With a fluidity that surprised him, he was able to maneuver around on his other seven legs like a person walking on crutches to avoid agitating a broken leg. Fascinating.. But it would certainly make his journey that much harder now that unfiltered water would be exposing itself to the wound. He wondered if his aquatic body would be prepared for that -- if it was somehow naturally resistant to water-borne infection. Isn't that how octopuses survived in the ocean?

To be honest, he didn't know.

There was much that was completely foreign to him about his new body and his last hope was that young Medic the Sniper had introduced him to. He'd learned through chatting with him that he once worked at an aquarium while he was going to medical school to keep up his income. His affinity for the fish there eventually led to his studying of them through hobby. And while he went on to become a medical professional, he still kept fish as pets in his home.

For the rest of the day, he ravaged that bear carcass, surprising himself with how much he was actually able to polish off. Perhaps if he thought of it when he got back, he'd ask the Medic how much food an octopus needed to survive and if he was accidentally malnourishing himself by eating too little. Wouldn't hurt to find out, would it?

Night fell when he slid back into the river, his severed tentacle held in his arms.

It wasn't as ridiculous as it may have looked. Medics always prattled on about how miraculous they could be where severed bits and pieces were concerned. 'Remember: don't be left unarmed!' they'd say. Well.. maybe tentacles still applied. He knew they would grow back regardless, but if a Medigun could simply reattach this one, wouldn't that be better?

His thoughts were interrupted by his wounds. That bear had really lived up to its reputation: a lost tentacle, countless claw marks to the others, and a nasty bruise covering most of his right shoulder.

He couldn't wait to get back to base, eyes sliding shut as he began swimming blindly and letting the current push him back toward the Reds..

By this point, everyone on the Red team knew about the Blu Spy loose in the base.

They'd been instructed to keep an eye out for him though despite hours of searching, they'd come up empty-handed. The Sniper's friend knew why. He stood in the briefing room, smoking like a fiend while his short companion watched him with some concern..

He watched the hazel-eyed man pace around with the burned photograph in his hand, deep thought raising the intimidation factor of his scowling face until he couldn't stand it anymore. "Will you sit _down_? Pacing around does nozhing." The glare he received caused him to shy even further down in his seat, but he cleared his throat and attempted to nonchalantly loosen his tie, "You know as well as I he will be found. What can one man do against an entire team eef he is an inexperienced rookie?"

The Sniper's friend.. smiled.

He paused in his pacing and tucked the photograph into his suit as he walked toward the reclining Spy. "Mon Ami.." he crooned. The other Spy didn't like that tone of voice very much, but he inclined his chin and met the Red Spy's gaze evenly. "Look.. Look around you? Haha.."

Shaking his head, the man turned away and lifted his hands with a shrug, "What can one man do.. He can steal all of our intel! And, what's more.." his arms fell as he glanced back over his shoulder, "He can become invisible, he can and perhaps already _has_ obtained a weapon, and we don't even know how he got_ in _here!"

The shorter Spy lifted a hand to itch at his cheek as he tilted his head back to release some smoke. Staring at the ceiling for a little while, he tried to think of something to say. It was somewhere between counting the pencil holes in the ceiling tiles and opening his mouth to speak that he noticed something of interest. A vent in the ceiling.. it seemed opened slightly. Blinking gently, he lowered his head and stood, still looking at the aperture as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and gestured toward it.

"Monsieur.."

Catching on quickly, the Sniper's friend grabbed a meter stick and reached up to poke the grate with it.

The two Spies watched it shift to the side with ease and looked toward each other..

Out in the hall, things had quieted down a good bit. The day had been bustling with wandering troops, men of all classes mingling with one another and discussing tactics for fights that couldn't even be fought at the moment.

The Sniper had spent all of today hunting, however. The comforts of a cease fire missed him entirely as he scoured the base in search of the AWOL Blu.

It was the third time he'd passed the blonde Scout's room and you know how it is in baseball, buddy. Three strikes and..

"_Heeey, _Steve Irwin!"

The Red Sniper paused and looked back to see the boy hanging halfway out of his room door, "..'Ello there. Something wrong?"

"Nah, only you just keep walkin' around in them high heels uh yours."

"They're not high heels."

"Uh-huh, yeah ok."

He sighed, watching the Scout as he exited his room and shut the door behind him. Tossing a baseball up and down in his hands, he started following the Aussie through the base, "So yea, listen, wassup? War's over dude."

"It ain't over, mate. We're just at an impasse."

"Yea whatever, but either way you don't gotta be all.. _gung ho sentry guy_," he pumped his arms at his sides for effect before resuming the tossing of the ball.

The Sniper huffed gently, glancing at him and then back up the hall as he relaxed his Kukri on his shoulder, "There's a Spoy loose in 'ere, mate. Oy'm gonna catch 'im before 'e causes any more trouble."

"I bet he got owned by one uh the Engie's Sentries by now. Seriously, dude, you really think he'd survive a whole day in an enemy base? H'yea, right.."

"The man's a Spy, Scout. Infiltrating's what he's good at."

"Plbbbt."

"Oy'm being serious here."

"Yea, what else is new?" The Sniper stopped walking, reaching out to grab the Scout by his arm and jerk him in front of himself. Startled by the sudden motion, the Scout dropped his baseball and grabbed the Sniper's offending wrist, "Yo man, what gives!"

The Sniper frowned lightly, saying nothing which in turn caused the Scout to frown too!

"I want you to go back in your room, Scout.. He'll be out at night and the last thing I want to see is your throat slit just because some damned _spook _thought it'd be funny to take you from behind."

The Scout sneered, "Fuck that man, I'm goin' with you. You think I'm scared uh Spies?"

"Maybe you should be," he released the boy who jerked backward and shook out his arm as he went to collect his ball. The mood had been soured and he could see it in the Scout's posture as he stood back up and pointed at the Aussie.

"You think dat? Look, pally, just cause you're all friendly with them suited fucks don't mean you're one uh them! You can't scare me, you know. I ain't scared uh no fuckin' Spies and no god damn Spy's gonna get one up on me."

"Scout, that's nawt what it's about."

"Oh really? I'm sorry, I saw your mouth move, but all I heard was: OOOH! Look out for the Spies, they'll fuck ya up _real_ good!"

"Scout.."

"Naw man.. s'all good. Tell ya what?_ I'll _take care of yer problem," smiling with a set of defiantly-raised eyebrows, the Scout strode right past the Sniper on the way back to his room. The Sniper watched, waiting to see what he meant when he saw the boy coming back out with his bat. Instantly a red flag went up and he started back toward him.

"Now look mate, Oy know you've got a fine ego on you, but so help me if you don't get back in your roo--"

"Hey look man, _FUCK _you. A'ight?" He backed away from the Sniper, hopping foot to foot, "I'm a force uh nature -- ain't _nobody _gotta baby me."

The Sniper simply stared at him grimly though it appeared as though even his best intimidation tactics weren't working. The Scout grinned and pulled down his hat before bolting down the hall, "You'll see, Snipes! I'll bat his fuckin' head in!"

Watching after him, he considered giving chase. But no.

Maybe it was just simple over-worrying. Maybe the Scout would be fine and lucky enough to miss the Blu entirely. He was a capable team member and had managed to survive well enough on his own for this long. Perhaps he deserved more credit than the Sniper was ready to give.

It didn't matter either way; he had a job to do..

And as he stepped in the opposite direction, he pulled his Kukri down from his shoulder and got back to it.


	5. Act 5: Benedict Sniper

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

The Scout trotted past the mess hall, his bat swinging out at his side as he glanced up and down the hall ahead of him.

He'd passed this room from another direction earlier, but now he decided to go inside as his sneakers screeched again the floor and brought him to a full stop. Adjusting his hat, he shouldered the door open and briskly stepped inside.

A precursory examination proved the room to be empty, but the sound of something falling in the kitchen area forced him to stop in the center of the cafeteria and tighten his grip on the bat as he slowly began to approach with his head down. His free hand flexed, fingers curling and relaxing as he stepped up to the doorway..

He could hear more sounds inside -- a slam, a muffled yell. A metallic sound rang out, the sound of a frying pan most likely. This was it, he had to get in there and see what was going on.

Bolstering his confidence, he threw himself around the corner with his bat drawn.

"Mm--mmph!" protested a Pyro, his back hitting the floor as the Red Sniper stepped over him with the pan in hand. The Scout wasn't fast enough to get to the pair before the Sniper delivered a lethal blow to the Pyro's masked head.

"The** FUCK's **goin' on in here, man?!" the Scout yelled, running up to the two of them and staring harshly at the Sniper while his eyes demanded answers to what he'd just witnessed. The Sniper didn't seem very impressed, merely backing off from the man's body as beads of red began to drip through the filters of his gasmask.

"Don't be fooled, Scout. 'E isn't one've ours."

"The fuck he isn't man, _look_ he--"

"It's awl'right, Scout.. Look, he's turnin' Blu, mate," the Sniper insisted, edging subtly closer to the boy and pointing at the fallen man.

Without thinking twice, the Scout placed his bat up on his shoulder and looked down to see if that was indeed the case. Unfortunately, that moment of distraction prevented him from seeing the Sniper lift that frying pan again and begin to swiftly send it for the side of his head. His peripheral vision kicked in however, eyes widening as he swore loudly and tried to throw himself out of the way.

It wasn't enough.

The cold metal caught him on the jaw, sending him slamming into the refrigerator where he staggered and then stumbled before his chin smacked the floor. Dazed but not dead, he murmured as the Sniper dropped the pan onto the floor and stepped over him. His vision spun around, jaw twitching as he groped feebly at the floor and felt himself slip out of consciousness.

Smiling to himself, the Sniper grabbed his rifle from one of the mess hall tables and placed a hand to his wrist.

In mere moments he felt himself turning invisible, the Spytron3000 he'd pilfered from one of the absent Red Spy's rooms wearing down and transforming him from the Red Sniper back into his true identity.. that of a Blu and now see-through Spy.

It hadn't taken much to break in..

A bit of hacking into the base's Alarm-o-tron, a bit of tweaking to the metallic strip of his stolen key card.. He carried a skeleton key on his person now, no doors able to bar him save for those which he could simply pick the locks on.

The Sniper's room had been among them, the man's stolen weapon slung up over one shoulder as he smirked and peered around for a ventilation shaft to sleep in for the night. Ah.. his cloak was beginning to wear down, not that he minded as he simply reached to his other wrist to activate his second Cloak & Dagger. It was cheating, really, to be cloaked for twice as long as his colleagues.. But one man against an entire enemy team?

That wasn't really fair either, the way he saw it.

As his rapidly-decloaking shoes disappeared up into a vent, he sighed, smiled, and pushed the grate closed behind him. This one appeared to be snap-shut, a flawless design for one planning to sneak through unnoticed like himself. He knew he could sleep soundly on the fact that his stationary posturing would result in an indefinite cloak. Even if he were found, he would not be discovered. And what's more? He knew the Sniper wouldn't be hunting him for much longer..

-Hawhawhaw..-

He grinned as he rounded a dark corner of the vents and cozied himself up with his head down on his rolled-up suit jacket. -Ah, Monsieur.. You thought me to be incompetent.. wait until tomorrow when zhey discover your _ulterior _motives..- His grin could not leave him even as his eyes closed, his gloved hands curled gently over the Aussie's sniper rifle as a cool, venting breeze passed over him and lulled the Spy to sleep.

The Red Sniper finally returned to his room, too worn with stress to take stock of anything but his bed as he sheathed his Kukri, dropped down on the mattress and slept just like that. He knew if he was going to find the Spy tonight, it would have happened already. The man had to have been sleeping in safety somewhere and a new day meant a new round of looking for him. But now? Now he needed rest in order to prep him for the intensive manhunt. He could go to the Spies tomorrow and ask for a floor plan. Maybe they would let him check the restricted areas too?

All in good time, as the Tentaspy might say..

And time passed swiftly after the Australian shut his eyes. Troubled sleep carried him through to the morning after, waking him with a headache and a sense of disorientation he didn't quite understand as he heard loud banging on his door and rolled over to try and scramble to his feet. It took a hand to the wall to keep him upright as he tried to wipe his eyes, realized he was still wearing his glasses, and let loose an irritated growl. He felt his way along the wall, hastily stood upright to fix his hat, and fidgeted with the lock on his door.

The banging continued, followed by the very upset sound of a Demoman's voice, "Oopen up this door, Snipar! Oy've a _bone _to pick with yeh!"

"Oy'm roight here! Shut your bloody noise!" he yelled back as he ripped the door open and fixed the man on the other side with the nastiest scowl he'd worn since his last battle with the Blus. It turned to one of confusion as he noticed that the Demoman was not alone..

A good number of men were accompanying him and before he could even ask what was going on, the Demo reached in and grabbed him by the edges of his vest to throw him forcedly into the hall where a Heavy was waiting. Two Soldiers and a Spy entered his door room as the burly Russian captured the Sniper in his strong arms and held him in place. Eyes wide with surprise and anger, the Sniper cussed and struggled in his hold, "What in blazes is goin' awn here?!"

The Demoman was not forthcoming with information, but he took a swig from his scrumpy and looked up the hall toward a small crowd which had formed nearby. An Engineer, the brunette Scout, a Pyro or two.. Several classes were here, but the one that truly caught his eye was the Spy who stood nearest to the door.

He waited outside of it, peering in with placidly-narrowed eyes and a neutral expression as smoke drifted from the end of his cigarette. And though he wouldn't look at the Sniper, the Aussie recognized him as the man he had befriended early on.

"Spoy? Look, mate, at least tell me what's going on? Oy.. Oy just got up, what is this bullwarky?!?"

When the man didn't answer, he tried to move toward him only to have the Heavy's grip tighten to an uncomfortable degree.

The short Spy who had entered the room emerged with one of the Soldiers and met eyes with the Sniper's friend. He smirked in an unimpressed fashion. "It's here," he said, hand lifted to display a white paper envelope and a few hand-written notes before his eyes shifted to the Sniper and narrowed. "Bravo, Monsieur.. You had zhe best of us fooled."

Choking with rage, the Aussie glared at the man, "Wha.. Wot are you talking about? What is that?!"

The shorter Spy simpered and shook his head as he stepped past the Sniper's friend and barked off an order to have the Soldiers search the rest of his room. He then proceeded to head up the hallway, followed by a Pyro and the head Medic who the Sniper hadn't seen among the men before. The man left with the Spy, but not before staring icy death in his direction as he turned sharply and strode away..

Gaping after him, he didn't even notice the hazel-eyed Spy turning and approaching him as he pulled his cigarette from his mouth.

The Sniper looked back toward the room with an utterly baffled expression only to meet the Spy head-on and cough with surprise as the man exhaled a lungful of smoke directly into his face. "S-Spy? Talk to me. What's going on? What's there?"

Staring at the Aussie with an unreadable expression, the Spy did not speak at first.

In fact, it was only after he took another long drag of his cigarette that he said anything at all, "Where is your rifle.. ..Monsieur Sniper?"

"What.. It's in my _room_, mate. There or with me -- like aw'lways. Go look!" he spat.

Pressing the cigarette between his lips, the Spy turned to glance inside. The Soldiers there looked at him, shaking their heads. He only lifted his eyebrows, smiling sweetly as he turned back toward the Sniper and tilted his head.

Clearly shaken by this early intrusion and subsequently brutal treatment, the Sniper tried to read the man's expression. "Spoy.." he breathed uneasily. The Red Spy reeled back his fist and punched him with a speed far quicker than he had any idea the Frenchman possessed.

"_GRAAGH!_"

Wheezing, the Sniper clenched his jaw and pinched his eyes shut as he lowered his head and slowly opened them back up to try and look at the Spy. He blew another cloud of smoke at him, sure to aim for the eyes as his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. Squinting from the heat, he coughed subtly and met him with an angry glare.

"We zhought you were one of _**us**_, mon _Ami_," said the Spy. He was attempting to sound scornful, but the Sniper could swear he heard a twinge of pain in the man's voice.

"Oy am.."

"You are~" the Spy mocked, clapping his hands sarcastically and grinning as his cigarette tipped upward, "You would like us to believe zhat, would you not?"

The Sniper looked for clues, but it didn't seem like any would be coming, "Oy've no.. _no_ idea what is going on here. Oy dunno what you think I did.." he shook his head in disbelief, "I don't know _what_ it is -- look, you've got the wrong idea, whatever it is, mate."

"Hawhaw.. Ah oui.. We are all your _**mates**_.." another round of smoke burned the Sniper's nostrils, a pained snort clearing them as the Spy continued, "You are quite an actor, you know? Eet eez a shame you did not become a Spy yourself -- you would have been razher good. ..of course you would still be on zheir side, wouldn't you?"

The smile on the Red Spy's face was as fake as possible, anger burning in those hazel eyes which seemed to turn gold with fury as he lifted them to the Heavy and then panned them to those watching, "Bring him to zhe holding cell. Jhentlemen? Nice work.."

Jaw agape, the Sniper watched as the Spy turned on his heel and strode away as he adjusted his tie.

"I can't believe th.. Spy? Spoy!"

The Heavy started to move, dragging the spindly Sniper along with him. His efforts to resist and chase after the masked man ended in failure as one of the Soldier's moved up to him and jammed the butt of his shotgun harshly into his stomach. He was too dazed to pay attention after that, faces and voices rushing over him as he felt himself being slung over the Heavy's broad shoulder and carted off like garbage.

"Is sad day for Red team," he heard the big man grumble.

The room became marked off for investigation, warning tape crossing the door as most of the crowd dissipated. Among them was a familiar face -- the young mint-eyed Medic who attempted to keep his calm as he walked from the area.. When no one was looking, however, he took a detour and headed for one of the hangar doors. No one was there save for a Sentry which whipped in his direction but failed to fire.

After recovering his nerves, he pushed up the heavy door and stepped outside as he took off running toward the Tentaspy's pond.

The Blu Spy smiled and smoked a stolen cigarette as he lowered himself from a ventilation shaft and dropped down into one of the decrepit storage rooms of the Blu team. It was barren of materials, he noticed. No doubt the Reds had moved it to their own grounds and ceased paying attention to the area.

That couldn't have been more perfect.

He'd had front-row seats to the capture of the Sniper, his disguise as a Pyro flawless due to the class's concealing masks though he could count a myriad of ways he could have infiltrated and observed.. The Reds -- pathetic how easily they could be trailed and manipulated. A bit of intel, a bit of forged handwriting, a few misplaced belongings.. That was all it took to pin the Sniper as his accomplice. Knowing a bit of the man's history helped him greatly as well to pull the entire thing off as a gigantic and convincing plan to infiltrate the Red base. No one would trust the sharpshooter now -- not after missing intel papers had been found in the Sniper's desk.. not after they discovered those 'legitimate' correspondences between himself and the Aussie bragging about the success of their plan.

The Spy strolled freely through the empty Blu base, laughter echoing down its hollow halls as he caught the sun through a nearby window and blew a mouthful of smoke up at the sky.


	6. Act 6: Help Us Help You

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

When he came to his senses, the Sniper found himself in the very storage room that had been used to contain the Blu Spy after his initial capture.

A few modifications had been made of course..

Rather than rope, he found himself handcuffed at the wrists and plastic-strapped at the ankles. A small, swiveling computer chair was his current prison -- certainly much cozier than one made of wood, but it didn't change that fact that he was secured to it in an unmovable fashion. He tried to work himself free, feeling the cold metal of the cuffs slicing into his wrists and forcing him to stop.

His face was sore.

Damn.. Even though he couldn't see it, he could approximate the severity of the bruise that had formed there from the Red Spy's sudden strike. What was with that anyway?? The man had never hit him before aside from being playful -- this whole situation seemed to be ridiculous, in fact. And worst of all? No one was telling him anything.

Left in the dark quite literally, he sighed listlessly and pushed his head back over the spine of the chair. It wasn't tall enough to support him completely, but he hadn't expected that sort of courtesy after the wake-up call he'd received. What could it possibly be about? He ran the facts in his mind: Papers in his room, the absence of his gun..

Answers were not readily apparent and as he frowned up at the ceiling he thought of other things. The Scout -- had he found that Spy? ..no. He'd have been there if he did. He would have come to at least explain what was going on, wouldn't he? Yea.. even if something incriminating was said, he'd at least show up to rub it into his face, right? Well.. His absence said only one thing to the Aussie -- something had happened to him, possibly something that prevented him from being able to attend. Refusing to think about what that something could be, he shut his eyes and frowned with creeping despair.

What was going on?

He didn't realize that he was not alone until the chair was suddenly turned around and brought to an abrupt halt facing the head Medic.

Emitting a startled gasp, the Sniper jolted in the chair and strained his bonds only to feel them dig in punishingly. The Medic sneered at this reaction, his hand leaving the chair to flick at the long-needled syringe he held in his other one. Furrowing his brow at it, the Aussie opened and shut his mouth as he tried to meet eyes with the silent physician, "Medic? What's this about?"

He observed as the man grabbed his arm, the chair turning accordingly as he found a vein and slid the needle in. The Sniper winced at the pinch it produced though he knew full well he'd be unable to jerk away as the man pressed down on the plunger of the syringe and pumped a clear blue liquid into his bloodstream with a painstaking slowness that made the Sniper look away and groan.

Pulling the needle free, the Medic held the injection point with his thumb and slapped a bandage over it hastily before wordlessly moving back from him and allowing another man to approach. This one was a Soldier, one he wasn't too particularly familiar with though he supposed it wouldn't have mattered anyway..

"Maggot.." the man growled, interlocking his arms behind himself as he leaned down to stare at the Sniper from under the rim of his helmet.

The Sniper stared back evenly, saying nothing even as the man stood straight and sneered at him.

"Do you know _why _you are _here_, scum?" he asked accusingly.

"No."

"Don't lie to me, boy!"

"_No_."

The Soldier frowned heavily at him, peering down the side of his chiseled nose at the seated man. Grunting, he moved on, beginning to pace in a slow circle around the chair much as he had done to the Blu captive weeks prior. As he moved aside, the Sniper could see who else was there: the head Medic, his acquaintence from the hangar -- the Engineer, and, he noted with mixed feelings, his friend the Red Spy..

They stood in silence near the wall, each displaying their own methods of professionalism as they let the Soldier move on with the interrogation. The Medic looked disapproving and angry, the Engineer? Thoughtful and rigid with his pipe wrench held tightly in his hands.. The Spy wasn't even looking at him, he seemed more interested in the cigarette he was smoking and his view of the trio was obscured as the Soldier stepped back in front of him and snapped him to attention as he ground the heel of one boot sharply against the floor.

Spine stiffened, the Sniper grimaced and looked up to him.

"You have been found guilty of _treason_, boy, the penalty for which.. is a _swift _and _**merciless **_execution," the Sniper thought he saw the Soldier smile as he accented his words, his own brow furrowing further with a mixture of concern and.. anger!

"Treason.. Against who?" The Soldier grinned, prompting the Aussie to sound even angrier as he sat up in the chair, "Awl Oy've done is work to protect this base -- to protect _you_!"

"Zhat is what we assumed as well," said the Spy.

He drew the attention of the room as he exhaled a bit of smoke, hazel eyes moving from the ceiling to the Sniper with a manner that made the Aussie feel like prey. "At least until we uncovered your dirty leetle secrets.." Frowning heavily, the Sniper ground his molars and tried not to prattle off anything too inflammatory.

"Enlighten me," he growled, reigning himself in but only just barely.

The Spy seemed happy to do so, pushing himself off of the wall and dropping some papers onto a wooden table which had apparently been moved in for the interrogation. Watching the Soldier move, the Sniper braced himself as the chair lurched forward and sent his chest colliding into the side of the tabletop with a force that almost knocked the wind out of him. The light above the table illuminated its contents as the Spy leaned over both them and the Sniper with a seemingly amused smirk, "Oh Monsieur Sniper.. where shall I begin?"

Recovering swiftly, the marksman said nothing and looked at the items presented. Folded letters, photographs.. Most appeared to have his handwriting, others being entirely different though it seemed like a series of communications passed back and forth.. They had been dated months back.

"What is this?"

"Indeed, Monsieur. What _is_ this?"

The Sniper snapped his gaze up to the Spy who stood straight and coolly adjust his tie as he plucked up one of the letters.

"..I am leaving my rifle for you, mate," the masked man narrated, gesturing around with his cigarette, "You may use it to impersonate me as you see fit. No one will suspect a thing as you are about my height and build. With any luck we'll be able to flush them out of their own base or, at least, board their trains when they try to follow our colleagues."

"I did _nawt_ write that, mate," the Sniper interrupted.

Peering from the paper to the man, the Spy pretended to look surprised. "Oh? You didn't write zhat? Well.. Surely I must be mistaken. I assume zhere are plenty of people in zhis base who would have your identical handwriting.." Reaching down, he brushed aside a photograph to reveal the post card the Sniper had been writing to his parents earlier that week. Without waiting for the Aussie's reply, he laid the letter down next to it facing the man and let him see for himself how the two items matched up.. "What eez more, I am sure zhe fact zhat zhese were in your locked desk drawer means nothing.." His index finger tapped a white envelop labeled 'intel'.

"Son of a dingo-- Oy! _No_, I didn't write this!" the Aussie sputtered, completely blindsided by this startling mimicry of his hand-writing as well as the great lengths someone had taken to build a conspiracy around him. The least of his worries was the invasion of privacy, but that didn't mean he didn't feel sick knowing everyone was sifting through his personal belongings and trivializing them as evidence for a crime he did not commit.

"You were his guardian, you were at zhe head of his following search party.. You found nothing, hm? Zhe entire team searched and zhey found nothing either.. Would you like to know what I think, Monsieur?"

The Sniper shook with indignation.

"I zhink you helped him to escape and you know precisely where he is."

"**That** is _**NOT**_true, mate!" he yelled, straining forward against the table and gritting his teeth with impatent rage, "You really think Oy'd work with that slimey bastard? Talk to Scout, he knows I was lookin' for him t'cut 'is head off. Go ask him!"

"Ah, _**oui**_," the Spy said with morbid glee, "Zhe Scout.."

They stared at one another for a short while as the Sniper slowly leaned back into his chair. The cuffs had broken his skin, blood dripping onto the dirty store room floor as he upheld the silent and dared the Spy with his eyes to break it.

"I assume you know where zhe Scout is?"

"No.." he growled quietly, "I awl'ready_ told _you Oy just woke up. I dunno where anyone is but myself.."

"Is zhat so.." the Spy asked sardonically as he drew from his cigarette, "Really, because he tells us zhat you attacked him last evening after first trying to get him to stop looking for zhe Blu Spy."

"What?? Oy never attacked anyone last night! And.. I told him to go back to 'is room because I was bloody worried! I thought he'd get 'imself killed!"

"Which is why you took a frying pan to his head later zhat night?"

"No! What on earth are you talking about?!"

"Oh Monsieur, please.." the Spy shook his head and turned his back on the man as he blew smoke up at the ceiling, "Zhis would move much faster if you simply told zhe truth.."

"Mate, Oy _**am**_!" he snapped, desperation tainted his voice.

"You attacked him once before, oui?"

".." the Sniper thought quickly, recalling the mess hall incident and just as quickly deciding to try and turn it to his advantage, "I hit him, yes. Weeks ago -- with a briefcase. Do you even know why?"

"Haw.. Humor me, Monsieur.." the Spy still did not look at him.

"He was raggin' on me in the mess hall, mate. Started gettin' real physical about it and spoutin' off crap about you for what it's worth.." The approach didn't seem to tug any heartstrings so he continued, "I clocked him with the case, he got me back later with a bat to the head. Medic? You should know, Oy went t' you."

The German scoffed, looking unimpressed as per usual, "Ach ja.. You came for knife vhounds und a bullet. I do not remember anyzhing about a Scout. ..Only zhat he suffered head trauma which I later found out vhas caused by _you_."

That's right -- his moment of pride had caused him to withhold the baseball bat incident from the doctor. ..and now it was backfiring on him. Still, he wouldn't let this opportunity slip away.

"And did _he_ tell you why I did it?"

"Somezhing about a love affair. I wasn't terribly interested," the Medic said evenly.

"Wha.. Look, why would I attack him for something stupid like that?" No one looked impressed, "Are you even listenin' t'yourselves?"

"Zhe point, Monsieur Sniper, is zhat you have done zhis sort of thing in zhe past," the Spy had turned back around at this point, "And so eet eez only natural for us to assume you've done eet again. I am afraid it casts you in a.. razher poor light." Almost as if on cue, the light bulb hanging above them began to flicker a bit.

The Aussie tried to meet his gaze, but found that the sun was positioned behind the Spy and rendering him a featureless silhouette.

"Look.." he tried to peer to all four men at once as the Soldier joined those at the wall, "Oy've got nothing to gain by betraying this team. _Nothing. _You have any idea what Blu would do to me if I showed up on their doorstep? Any idea at all?"

"Guess it's a moot point if you never really left 'em in the first place, huh?" the Engineer asked suddenly.

The Aussie stared.. sadly in his direction, blinking a few times and shaking his head, "Aw.. Don't.. Don't let this get to you, mate. Please. Really!"

"I just call 'em like I see 'em, Mister. And you best be comin' up with a solid excuse or else things just ain't gonna pan out fer you."

The four of them stared expectantly at their captive who had dropped his eyes to the table and taken on a look of contemplation.

"Well Monsieur Sniper? Do you have anyzhing to say?" the Spy prodded.

"I can't win here, can Oy.." the Sniper murmured.

"Zhat vhould depend on your end goal, Herr Sniper," came the Medic's sing-song tone. "If you intend to betray us, den no -- you lose miserably."

"..are my fingerprints on those documents?" the man asked suddenly, head lifted after no one answered.

The Spy looked at the Medic. The Medic looks intrigued by the request.

"They'd be on it if I wrote it, right? The only gloves I own don't 'ave fingertips," he peered between the men with fervor in his eyes -- he'd noticed early on that his glasses had been removed and placed on the table.

The Engineer sniffed and broke the silence with a shrug as he moved away from the wall, "Guess so, Mister. Guys? Whadd'y'all say we take a break and come back later? Might as well be sure before we get the notion of killin' somebody." The Sniper's spirits rose and fell again when the Engineer looked at him and added, "Besides, we still have to decide how we're gonna take him out when we find his prints all over that darn thing."

Clucking his tongue with a shake of his head, the Engie placed his wrench on his belt and strolled out the door.

The other men exchanged hesitant glances, unanimously deciding to leave as the Spy slowly gathered up the papers and tossed one last look at the Sniper before following the Medic out and locking the door.

-Zhere won't be any prints, will zhere..- the Frenchman thought to himself. He could feel the burnt photograph of the Sniper sitting inside of his suit where he'd kept it for the past day or so. Right over his heart..

That was one of the things which made no sense.

Why snuff out a picture of someone unless you intended to follow such a path through other means like, say, framing them or snuffing them out of a more literal picture -- a team for instance.

The Sniper stared at the wall after they all left, optimism working at full steam to try and distract him as despair and a constant headache threatened to push him overboard. If the Spy had managed to forge his prints as well, he was done for -- he knew that much..

And as his gaze lowered to his lap, he sighed and decided to soberly catch up on the sleep he'd missed this morning.


	7. Act 7: Code Blu

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

Things had gotten moving with surprising efficiency on the Blu side of things.

With Soldiers and Snipers coordinating everyone, they swiftly evacuated the deserts and moved into a new facility nestled under the mountains that had seemed so far away from the train tracks.

The green-eyed Spy didn't get his hopes up as he was shoved in the vague direction of the new dorms with instructions to meet later with the other Spies. He was completely driven by the need for information, knowing full well that if he came unprepared, he would be discovered in the blink of an eye and killed on the spot..

So, as he shut the cold steel door of his room, he glanced around the room and immediately got to work searching the area top to bottom. His intention was to remove any possibility of there being surveillance in the room. Not a camera, not a crack, not even a two-way mirror..

Good.

He hadn't expected such measures in a dorm, but upon seeing the surveillance cameras plastered all over the rest of the base, he'd grown paranoid. Everyone had been divvied up by class again, stacked in the dorm halls like computer files ready for selection at the whim of whoever yelled orders the loudest. He made a mental note to learn more about the hierarchy of the Blus though right now he focused completely on assuming the identity of the man he'd captured and sent to Red HQ in order to make it this far.

Spanish accent, slightly taller, a bit heavier..

He pushed a hand into his suit, admiring himself in the pitiful frameless rectangular mirror which stood as the only thing adorning his walls. Well.. the other Spy hadn't been that much heavier. If anyone asked, he could claim he'd taken on a diet, right? He knew very little about the man, in truth.. Spies rarely came across each other on the field and when they did? They often avoided one another..

But one thing was undisputable -- Spies smoked.

All Spies smoked.

He started a fresh cigarette and held the smoke a long time as he stared into that mirror. Blu facemask.. Blu suit.. He felt like a traitor though it was only really half true the more he thought about it. No, he couldn't worry. He needed to get over it and go mingle with the rest of the team. Shutting his cigarette case and tucking it away, he loosened his tie, pulled open the door, and went to go stick his feet proverbially into the icy water of his new home.

The man certainly didn't expect to be pulled aside and immediately thrown up against the wall.

He stiffened, reaching immediately for his Ambassador only to have his wrist pinned to the wall and a pair of lips locked over his own, "Hm.. Hmph?!" Wide-eyed, the Red-in-disguise tried hard to register what exactly was going on, his free hand feeling around feebly as he tried to push his assailant off. It seemed like they were letting go on their own however, a loving smooch placed to his upper lip as he could finally see that he was being sexually-assaulted by a fellow Blu Spy.

".."

"Quelle est la matière, chéri?" the man asked as he leaned forward to nuzzle against the Red's nose with a pleased hum.

It took everything in him to keep from shoving the man back, eyes narrowing as he forced composure and smiled subtly, "It couldn't wait until later?" He would try anything until it issued a positive response from the man. His physical and vocal cues would tell him sooner or later if he was playing his part correctly.

"Aw.. You ignored me zhe entire trip.." his fingertips moved to the Red's tie, loosening it even further until it hung down unprofessionally as he pouted and tried to look very sad!

"Well.. what can I say? A new place.. a new me. At least for a little while, hm?"

The Blu Spy snorted and lifted his eyes to the Red's own, "A new you? Oh mon cher'.. Please, tell me zhis doesn't mean we are over?" He leaned forward against the green-eyed man, sighing into his shoulder and idly playing with the lapels of his suit.

He forced himself to grin and chuckle, his hand tugged down from the wall so that he could take the man's chin into his palm and lift his face a bit more, "Such a silly little man you are.. No, you are still mine."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die," the Red insisted, staring with some effort into the Blu's cloudy grey eyes before planting a small kiss at the tip of his nose and shoving him in the chest.

He laughed playfully and stood on his own steam as he fixed his tie and grinned coyly, "Ah_.. zhat _eez my Ramon! I will see you at zhe meeting mon petit 'spitfire'.."

The green-eyed Spy nodded and smirked back at him as he sauntered off down the hall and reassumed a more manly manner of walking once he reached the corner. For fear of the cameras seeing his reaction, the Red simply licked the man's taste from his lips and uncomfortably re-tightened his tie as he rolled his shoulders and walked in the other direction. So.. his name was Ramon, he apparently had a girlfriend, and he wore the pants of whatever relationship was in effect between the two of them.

He was beginning to see some differences in workplace manner between the Red and Blu teams..

At the other end of the dorms, the other Red-in-disguise was operating a bit differently. Though information would be key, he did not have any important meetings to attend to. So he roamed instead, deciding to get a walking blue-print of the building. He stalked up the hallway with a purposefully grim look on his face. For a fact, he knew, the man he had replaced was a mute -- it was the primary reason he had chosen him. A mute Engineer with goggles large enough to conceal the most important parts of his face and head.

It was a flawless design so long as he could keep up his act.

No one bothered him on his way through -- no doubt people already knew about his condition or simply didn't care enough to stop the wrench-toting hard hat in the hallways. He'd taken stock of the security cameras, he'd located most of the important function areas of the base which, he noted, was considerably smaller than the Red's own. He had not been assigned a dorm, informed instead that he would be moving immediately to the field.

Through a one-sided conversation with the other Engineers and one of the Blu Snipers, he'd learned that while this base would remain in the mountains, the men themselves would rotate out of it to continuously man outposts at the base of it. Sawmills, abandoned farms, open spaces of grass and river.. You name it, it was down there and vulnerable to attack. Their job would be suppression, their posts would be largely unbacked by HQ, and their supplies would be harshly rationed for shifts that could last as long as a week for Engineers and up to a month for some of the more hardy classes like the Snipers..

More reinforcements would be arriving by train and truck within the coming weeks, the end goal being to simply protect the mountain from infiltration for reasons which not even the Snipers had been told.

"Ho ho ho.."

He paused, lifting his head to the sound of foreboding laughter in front of him. It was a Blu Heavy, his beefy arms hanging at his sides like those of an ape as he leaned forward to scrutinize the faux Engie.

"Where is little Engineer going?"

The Red simply sneered and shifted his jaw testily with a sense of bravado that terrified him. He knew he had to do it. He knew that's the way his doppelganger would have handled things -- being a grump. A meaningless grunt left him as he pushed past the towering Heavy and continued on through the base.

"Ho! Little Engineer is _tough_ man!" he heard bellowed from behind him. Heavy footsteps were sure to follow as he stopped and turned to meet the tall Russian head-on with a frown that could sour milk. The Heavy loomed over him with an equally lethal frown, "Engineer wants _fight_? Is very thin ice.."

He really didn't want to have to do this..

-Why did I do zhat?- he thought to himself as he lay in the infirmary staring up at the sterile ceiling with a wince but little more.

Both legs and one arm had been snapped like twigs but he'd fought back valiantly and managed to slam his wrench over the Russian's head before the entirety of the man's unconscious mass had come down on top of him. He'd never tried so hard in his life to suppress a scream..

A Medic entered the room -- the head Medic actually. He walked over with a cool expression on his face as though he was impressed that someone had gotten injured this quickly. And as he stopped at bedside, he simply stared at the Engie before smirking and shaking his head, "Astounding."

Predictably, the disguised Red didn't answer, deciding instead to frown at this man too!

The Medic knew all about this Engie. He never could figure how a mute man could bring so many fights down on himself, but somehow he always did and even more surprisingly, he usually won them. Today must have simply been beginner's luck for the Heavy who had been a replacement for one who had died in one of the last large battles with Red.

"Vhell, let us get started zhen.." he began, tilting his head and turning away to go and get his Medigun from a locked cabinet at the far end of the room. He let it thud to the foot of the medical cot before positioning himself next to the Engie and pulling his left leg back into place without any warning. The Red squeaked suddenly, mouth wide but then nailed shut as he clenched his jaw, exhaled through his nose, and pictured himself on a particularly beautiful beach as the man repeated the procedure on his other mangled limbs..

The rest of the procedure seemed normal, similar to how their own Medic would get things done until he shut down the Medigun and pulled the Engineer into a seated position. The Red did not resist though he defiantly pulled his newly-repaired arm from the Medic's grasp once he was upright and ignored the hungry look the man was giving him. "Vhell.. I see you still have your fighting spirit.. Vhe are going to need it in zhe coming days."

After staring at the man for a few moments, the Engie spouted off a quick 'why' with sign language.

"Hah! Your humor has survived de trip too? Good.. To refresh your memory, you will be building zhe new tank." The lavender-eyed Medic smiled placidly, but that expression only served to send chills down the Red's spine, "Zhe project will do well here.. I vhant to start vhis one tank. Perhaps.. den we may upgrade to more after some testing is completed."

The fake Engineer shrugged indifferently and nodded with comprehension despite the creeping feeling of terror that came with knowing he had no clue how to build a Teleporter much less a Tentaspy tank..

But the Medic bought it, a grin splitting his scarred face as he moved away to secure the Medigun, "Dismissed."


	8. Act 8: Heart and Logic

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

"Sir.."

"Mmn.."

"Sir?"

"Bloody kangaroos.. They won't stay out of your yard, y'know?" the Red Sniper offered as he stared in a dazed fashion up at the ceiling.

The British Medic smiled meagerly, reaching out to lay a hand on the man's shoulder and shake him gently until he blinked and lowered his head to look loopily at him. He'd already taken note of the needle mark in the man's arm -- it could only mean that he was under the effect of some kind of new sedative. The head Medic had mentioned it to him in his initial on-base briefing though he wasn't particularly thrilled to see its first use applied to a member of his own team..

"Do you know where you are, Mister Sniper?"

"Mr. Sniper.. Ha ha ah.."

"Look at me. Hey," he patted the Aussie's cheek, waiting for him to blink again and put on a look with more focus. "You're in the holding cell, remember?"

"Mn.."

"They're going to be coming back in a few minutes to ask you some more questions," the Medic explained, his smooth forehead creasing with concern as he withdrew his hand to adjust his glasses, "I.. don't think you are guilty of what they're saying you are. I.. I went to see if the Decaspy -- your friend. I went to see if he'd come back, but he hasn't. I'll keep trying, Sniper. I'll tell him to hide until this whole mess is through, OK?"

The Sniper stared at him, attempting to try and keep his attention and right mind as he moved his mouth a little and bowed his head with closed eyes. Whatever drug they had pumped him with seemed to be a more refined version of the one they'd tried to use with the Blu Spy. He felt tired, but not enough to fall asleep. Lucid, but not enough to keep his words from flowing out of his mouth with little to no tact or thought.

"Ah? Tha'ss.. That's good, mate," lifting his head, the Aussie opened his eyes, smiling subtly and remarking, "You're young enough to be my son."

Humoring the man's drugged state, the Medic merely smiled a tight smile and nodded, "Yea.. But I have to go now. It wouldn't do well for me to be found here."

"Aw.."

Standing straight, the Medic adjusted his belt and nodded toward the Sniper with a slight frown, "Take care, Sniper. I'll do what I can from the outside."

The Sniper watched him backing away, watched his coat swish in slow motion through his loopy vision as the young man swiftly exited the room and subsequently jogged up the hallway leading to it.

However long it it really was? He felt like he would die of old age in that room until anyone came to check on him..

The hazel-eyed Red Spy sat at the Alarm-o-tron nexus with his feet kicked up onto its control panel. He appeared to be staring at a display on one of the many monitors dotting the surface of the giant machine.

Red dots peppered what looked like a blueprint of the Red base, several of them having turned green as he sat there and watched..

Motion detectors -- that's what they were. He'd placed them there himself after discovering the open vent which had likely been sealed before the Blu Spy's capture. His goal? To discover which methods the Blu rat was using to navigate their maze of a ventilation system. He had cleverly done so during the day, assuming correctly that the Spy might be walking around disguised as a team member while reserving the shafts for the night.

What sat in front of him now was a nearly direct pattern.

All lines pointed eventually toward the Blu base save for one which seemed to point into the heart of the Red one. That one, though rather rough in its patterning, pointed directly toward the holding cell. He could be acting on it. He could be setting up explosives in and around the area.. But for now he simply pulled at his cigarette, sighing smoke into the silent air of the computer room which sat conjoined to the briefing room.

He waited there, listening expectantly until a door clicked open behind him and shed some light into the otherwise screen-lit room.

Uninterested in looking to see who it was, the Red Spy pulled his cigarette from his lips and blew a fresh plume of curling smoke into the air above him, "Speak to me."

Footsteps approached calmly, the short Spy coming into view at his left as he glanced to the monitor and then to the reclining Spy in the chair. The man slid his eyes from the data to the paperwork the shorter Spy was carrying with him and lifted a hand to take it from him. The man spoke as he began to read.

"Zhere are no prints. Not from zhe Sniper.. Not even from zhe Spy -- _although _we did not expect any." The Sniper's friend turned a page and kept his silence. "But eet does not mean he is innocent, Monsieur. He could have thought a step ahead, used a towel or some type of cloth to hold zhe stylus, non?"

The Sniper's friend coolly read the papers, commenting, "I zhink we are looking for a betrayal which eez not here."

"And I zhink you are letting your heart cloud your judgment."

Placing his cigarette back into his mouth, the Sniper's friend looked evenly up at his short colleague and blinked gently before speaking again, "Well zhen.. Tell me why my heart sides with zhe facts while my judgment can see no reason why zhis man would betray us to zuch an extent?"

".."

"I believe we may be giving him too much credit here. He is no Spy. He has not had formal training nor could he so easily sway us all without a single mistake. Zhat eez not how he operates and even zhe best of us actors trip on stage at times. Eet eez why we are here, you know? To replace zhe Spies before us who happened to make zhat mistake and trip to zheir deaths."

"Still--"

"A Sniper could not pull zhis off, mon Ami." He tapped out a bit of ash, gesturing toward the screen with the rapidly-burning end of his cigarette, "Our evidence eez circumstantial at best. Our witnesses can only speak with praise for zhe man's character.. And zhen zhere eez zhe matter of him killing for our side."

"It could be a facade."

"You are trying too hard."

"You're not trying hard enough!"

"Pfeh.."

The shorter Spy frowned subtly, reaching forward to steal the other man's cigarette for once and throw it to the ground as his heel came down over it. Staring down the hazel-eyed man, he cast aside his refined submission and freely spoke his mind.

"From zhe very first day he began to 'care' for you, I sensed somezhing was _terribly_ wrong. He does not act like his _class, _mon Ami. He does not conform to zhe_ standards _of zhis team and now he has managed somehow to brainwash you into guarding him in zhe face of blatant circumstance and _solid evidence_! Do you not see it? He is using you to betray your own team and _**you**_ will not even look at zhe facts!"

The Red Spy wordlessly plucked the burned photograph from his suit and pressed it against the shorter Spy's stomach which effectively caused him to stop ranting and start sputtering as he took and looked at it, "And what is zhis? A photograph of his treachery! Merde.. You really _are_ far gone, Pierre.."

"I will wait until zhe Decaspy returns," the man said quietly, feeling the burn of his comrade's anger though not letting it affect him outwardly, "Zhe Sniper is innocent. ..but he will remain incarcerated until zhe Spy returns. Zhat will be zhe ultimate proof, mon Ami. One man may be a fantastic actor.. but I find zhat two in a row eez a hard act to swallow."

They had a relative standoff then, the fact that one of them was seated seeming to have no bearing on the hazel-eyed Spy's ability to look foreboding.

"..fine," the shorter man conceded as he dropped the photo into the Red Spy's lap, "Fine.. But Pierre? Know zhat I will only tolerate zhis madness because you have asked it of me. Know also.. zhat _**I**_ will be zhe one to kill zhat Sniper and zhen _you_ eef it happens zhat you are wrong."

".."

"..."

"I'll be happy to provide you a gun, in zhat case," the Sniper's friend concluded.

He reached into his suit jacket, staring up at the other man as he procured and lit a fresh cigarette. The shorter Spy narrowed his eyes, mixed emotions turning in them before he sneered and forced himself to simply stalk out of the room with stiff shoulders and a firm upper lip.

The interrogation would be continued in roughly half an hour -- he decided to use that time to try and recover..

Over in the infirmary, the Scout grimaced as he sat up and waited for the Medic to come and treat him for head wounds -- again. "Vhell, vhell.." said the German with a marveling tone, "It _is_ a real vhonder you've managed to survive so many whacks to zhe noggin, Scout."

"I'm a fuckin' fighter, man!" he insisted, wincing as the Medic clapped a hand onto his shoulder and pulled him nearer to start removing bandages and get his Medigun set up.

It had been a good while since the healing tool had seen use -- a haunting and strange feeling for the head Medic as he turned it on and pointed it at the Scout's head. He hesitated to pull the lever, simply staring at the trickling head wound he'd stitched up early this morning. But when the Scout grunted and motioned for him to hurry, he quit admiring the beautifully-stitched wound and swiftly sent a jolt of red energy into the boy's temple.

"GnnnaaaAaahh.. Agh! Ugh.. Unf.."

The Scout made a variety of amusing noises -- he usually did whenever the Medic was fixing him up out of a need to look tough in front of everyone. No crying, no whimpering, just swearing and grunts and silly noises.

"Awww.. does de Fraulein have zhe Mittelschmerz?" the man asked as he shut down the gun.

"Gaaa.. Dude, fuck off. You go beat yourself in the head with a fryin' pan and see how you like that. Jesus, fuck, ah..." He leaned his head back against the wall and placed a palm firmly over his face as he tried to work his sore jaw. What a crummy place to get hit -- he loved to talk!

"You are free to go, Scout. Vhould you like a lollipop for your troubles?"

"What," the Scout asked flatly, opening his eyes to find that the Medic was actually holding one out. Where he got it from, the Scout had no idea, but immediately he thought to punch the man in the face.

...

OK, so five minutes later as he walked down the hall with a cherry lollipop sticking out of the corner of his mouth, he did a bit of re-thinking.

The last thing he could remember was being interrogated by a gaggle of Soldiers and Spies. There'd been a Sniper or two present as well, but mostly they just wanted to know who had attacked who and for what reason. He learned that the Pyro was not dead, but currently knocked into a light coma from the trauma to his head. His medical cot was sectioned off with a curtain -- no doubt to hide the fact that he couldn't possibly be treated with his mask on.

Other than that, the Scout could not recall much.

He'd been looking for the Blu Spy, he'd seen the Sniper standing in the mess hall. Standing in the kitchen wielding a frying pan.. and not his Kukri?

The blonde paused in the hallway and tried to call on his memory as he put a hand to the side of his aching head and shifted his lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other. Before the mess hall, he'd met with the Sniper, right? He was.. carrying his Kukri. But in the mess hall he had neither Kukri _nor_ his quiver with him. Why not? Was it simply laying around the kitchen area?

..not that he could recall.

Lifting his gaze from the floor, the Scout turned around and headed for the mess hall with purpose.


	9. Act 9: Double Agent

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

"Ashes," the short Spy asked flatly.

"Read 'em and weep, buddy," the Scout said, hands lifted in a shrug as he watched the Spy examine the grainy grey dust in the plastic baggy he had brought from the mess hall. "Was in the kitchen area, dude. We clean up every evenin' so dun tell me one uh you jamokes dropped it there."

"And how, exactly, does zhis prove zhe Sniper's innocence, boy?"

"Snipes don't _smoke_, man," the Scout said, index finger lifted pointedly as he continued, "Guy can't stand the way it smells. You ever watch him when he's in briefin' wit you penguins. Pal uh mine said he saw him choking on it when you yanked him out his fuckin' room this mornin'."

"You are zhe one who pointed us in his direction, Scout.." the Spy reminded with a hint of frustration in his voice.

"Hey pally, I fuckin' told you what I saw cause you_ asked_. I didn't tell you t' go throw him in a fuckin' jail cell, a'ight?" The Scout, having since finished his lollipop, rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he assumed a more predatory stance, "You did that all on yer own. So hey man, you tell me.. Why's there cigarette ash in th'kitchen if the Pyro's got asthma and the Sniper can't stand that shit? Weren't nobody there but us three."

The Short Spy was quiet for a little while, setting down the baggy as he paced slowly away from the Scout and thought a few things over, "Eet is possible eet was a Spy, in zhat case."

"Oh, only possible? Hard evidence ain't enough fer you?"

"He would need to be able to assume a disguise, Scout. No such devices were found missing."

The Scout could be heard moving up behind him, "Oh yeah? And where'd you look? In here?" He thumped a fist against the nearby safe. "Where else do you keep those things, dude, I guarantee he's got one."

Opening his mouth to retort, the short Spy hit on a revelation.

With his jaw still subtly agape, he glanced at the Scout and lifted his cigarette, shaking his hand a bit, "..Zhere.. Is still a place, actually." He turned more directly to him, watching the boy incline his chin cockily and tilt his head. "..Come with me, boy."

Suddenly alight with great interest, the Spy grabbed up the baggie of ashes and stepped from the room on his way toward the dorms. The Scout followed right behind him, bat pulled from the table and hefted up onto his shoulder as he followed with a deliberate tone to his step. They were on the road to evidence -- on the road to proving the Sniper's innocence.

If a Spytron could be found missing in one of the rooms they were headed toward, it would solidly prove the Blu Spy capable of assuming any identity.

It would prove that the Sniper could not have been in the mess hall that night and that, perhaps, he was not a traitor after all.

The Sniper's friend had other plans, however..

He walked into the holding cell, the door falling shut behind him as he approached the Engineer and Medic who were already inside. They had spoken briefly only a few minutes prior to entering, choosing to purposefully enter at different times for reasons only the Red Spy knew for certain.

Sitting right where he was left, the Sniper blinked in a subdued fashion at the three men and lifted his head as the Spy drew near.

Laying a gloved hand on the back of the chair, he dragged it from the table and spun it around as he stood before the bound sharpshooter. "Is it working?" he asked, his words likely directed to the Medic who nodded curtly.

"Ja, vhe have tested him already. He vhill give you no trouble, Herr Spy."

The masked man observed the drugged Sniper seated before him, thinking before starting his line of questions, "Where is zhe Blu Spy, Monsieur?"

"Oy dunno.."

"Zhink, Monsieur.. We all know you are working with him," the Spy insisted as he leaned forward to grip the Aussie's shoulders and glare him right in the eye. "Now tell me.. where is he? Where is he going next?"

The Sniper flinched belatedly, blinking a few times to try and focus, "Oy.. Dunno, mate. Hn.. Dunno where 'e is."

Growling lowly, the Spy reached into his suit jacket and produced his pistol. He grabbed the man's shirt front and pushed the nose of it up under the Aussie's chin, "You have three seconds to change your mind and tell me zhe truth, _Monsieur. _I recommend you begin now."

The Engineer glanced at the Medic and back toward the pair, counting the seconds in his head and frowning subtly when they passed and the Spy punished the Sniper's silence with a violent pistol whip. A fleck of red hit the floor several feet to the Aussie's left, his head hung low in that direction as he coughed and groaned from the sting of that cold barrel.

Twirling the Ambassador in his hand with an eerily calm expression, the Spy grabbed the Aussie's chin and forced him to look at his face, "Why eez he here, Monsieur? Who eez he planning to kill next?"

"Oy.. d.." the Sniper sputtered, eyes shutting and opening as he flitted between focus and delirium, "Oy've no idea.. what 'e wants.. Mm.. Nice gun.."

Without hesitation, the Red Spy smacked him across the mouth again with it, standing upright and kicking him squarely in the chest so that the back of the chair collided with the table and nearly pushed it over.

"H-hack! .. Ha.. Ff.s.." the Sniper curled in on himself, wheezing and attempting to recover the breath that had been so violently pulled him his lungs.

"Don't play games wizh me, traitor! _WHERE_._ IS. HE?_" the Spy demanded as he advanced on the gasping captive and cocked the Ambassador as it found a home against the Sniper's bleeding forehead.

The Aussie spat out a bit of blood, likely from biting his tongue in direct response to the Spy's various blows.

He peered cross-eyed at the barrel of the gun, coughing weakly as he felt it grind in deeper and push his head back at a highly uncomfortable angle, "H-hey, mate.." Blinking tiredly, he narrowed his eyes and looked from the gun to the man holding it as a string of entirely unrelated thoughts left his lips, "Remember when you were capturing intel that day?" The Spy wasn't really sure where he was going with this, but he allowed it to continue. The Aussie smiled, clearly without his sense for the moment, "Oy've never seen you so scared. Did you think you were gonna die?" The Spy didn't answer though the Aussie continued to ramble. "Aw mate.. I wouldn't let them Blus kill you. F.. Fucking pikers.. Heh.."

The Spy found himself staring at the Aussie, his mask of anger flinching slightly to reveal some of his true feelings. He was quick to suppress them, frowning rigidly and tugging his gun back with a snarl as he glared toward the Medic, "Zhis isn't working. Run zhe formula again and find me a combination zhat works." He snorted, looking at the Sniper with pure disgust, "He eez useless to me in zhis condition. We will do zhis again later."

"Jawohl, Herr Spy," the Medic said crisply, his frown ever present as he glanced to the prisoner and then shook his head. "I vhill be in de infirmary. Send somevhone if his health declines."

Nodding subtly, the Red Spy dismissed him and gave an equally final look to the Engineer, "See zhat zhe Sentries are running near zhe Blu base. No doubt our Blu problem eez still out zhere running amok.."

"Well all right then, Mister," the Southerner said dutifully. He pulled his wrench from his belt and nodded to the Medic to go and get the door as the two of them left the room.

Left alone, the Spy stared down at the Aussie who seemed to be a bit more focused now and failing to make eye contact with him.

As one last act of disgust, he sneered and shoved his ambassador into his jacket while spitting at the Aussie's feet. "You two-faced liar.. And to zhink I considered you a friend.." The Aussie hung his head low, eyes closed and remaining that way until he heard the Spy leaving. They only opened for one reason after that, and that was to release a few tears to help rinse the blood from his face.

The fan blades swung methodically in the vent above him, a pair of pleased eyes observing the Sniper while a shadowed smirk formed below them.

The plan was working..


	10. Act 10: Faith And False Faces

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

The days that followed were true agony.

A party of three Scouts, two Snipers, and five Soldiers had piled onto a truck headed along the Blu tracks, bound and determined to find out where the other team had gone to since no one expected that the Blu Tentaspy would be making a return.

As a matter of fact, there was much distrust among the ranks.

Many believed the Reds had been had by the Sniper and Tentaspy, the free-roaming Blu Spy in their ventilation systems only adding to that sentiment though there were still a small and silent few who saw the evidence differently.

Among them was the younger Medic.

Every day he would tend to the Sniper's basic needs while the others were apparently refining the drug they would use in a week's time to resume the interrogation.

He also went out to the pond at the tail end of the river to wait for hours at a time -- to wait for the Decaspy. Sometimes he would walk a mile out with his Medigun in hand and a bag of provisions slung over his shoulder..

Every day he went, and every day he returned alone.

Today would be no different, he thought with hesitant pessimism. He'd been outside for three hours now, the cold penetrating his coat and chilling the rubber of his gloves until he stood at the banks of the pond shivering visibly. Again he adjusted his grip on his Medigun, more or less cradling the hefty machinery against his chest as he watched his breath rise as a white puff in the air before him.

The months were getting colder..

It was too cold for his personal liking, though he knew for _certain_ the Decaspy would never survive in such shallow, frigid waters if he stayed in them much longer.

His hands were starting to feel a bit numb and he wiggled his fingers against the lever of the Medigun with a grunt of discomfort. Just five more minutes, he coached himself, five more and maybe he'll show up. ..unless he is dead. Pessimism struck again though he tried his damndest to blame it on the cold as he lifted his eyes from the sand and looked up into the calm river twisting away from him. A visible splash spiked up the the banks roughly a hundred and fifty feet away, something moving into a deeper part of the river only to generate another splash even closer.

The Medic perked up, looking apprehensive as the splashes grew nearer. He felt as though he should be backing away though his knees, locked from the cold, were too numb to obey. And so it went that he just stood there, staring with wide-eyed fascination as a dark shadow slipped into the pond and disappeared from view.

His heart pounded, questions and answers bumping into each other in his head as he tried to decide what to do.

Licking his cold lips, he tried feebly to whistle. The sound was pathetic and quiet, a hand clamped over his mouth in an attempt to breath it back to life. Two warm exhales later and he tried again, a clear whistle cracking out after his third attempt. The wind was so cold that it nearly hurt to do so and soon he found himself shuddering even more than before as the whistle carried with it most of the stagnant heat he had been generating for himself.

The pond failed to stir, his hopes dashed as it appeared he was still alone.

Groaning with disappointment, the young Brit held his Medigun even closer to himself and numbly turned to leave. He could stay out there for days.. weeks! No one would be coming back this way and he would certainly be of no use if he froze to death. He made up his mind and kicked his legs a bit to prod them into motion.

A few rigid steps from the pond and he heard it again.

A splash!

Clumsy from numbness, he tried to turn and look back, effectively stumbling and falling on his hands as his Medigun hit the sand and the pond's water rippled again. This time it kept up, the surface reluctantly broken by.. the Tentaspy!

They stared blearily at one another, the chilled winds forcing the Blu to hug his arms about himself and retreat back down to chin-level in the cold water. He was wincing from the awful cold, the Medic noted, a worryingly blue pallor tainting his otherwise human face.

"Oh..Oh my god you made it b-back!" the Medic burbled.

"Please.. I need a doctor. I lost.. I lost a limb, I can't f-feel eet anymore," the Blu croaked. He'd dropped the tentacle he'd been carrying, his cold hands unable to grasp effectively as he had begun swimming with his arms tucked in to preserve what little heat he had left. His tentacles? He could barely bend them anymore, they felt so stiff and sluggish.

The Medic tried to recover quickly, fixing his glasses and getting to his feet and he shuffled the Medigun into his hands and stumbled up the water's edge, "Can you come here? I can't.. It won't work under water."

"Ah o..oui, yes. A moment.." the Blu said with a cringe as he forced his brittle tentacles to propel him forward and then up onto the freezing ground at pond side. The wind ate at his sopping wet clothing, shivers overtaking him in a matter of seconds as the Medic advanced fearlessly on him and and crouched near his severed tentacle and pried the bloody suit jacket-gone-tourniquet from its roughly-ripped base.

The Tentaspy barely reacted, unable to feel anything but slight motion at the site of the wound even as the medigun fired up and started to seal the open injury.

"We need to bring you inside -- you'll die of hypothermia if we do not."

"Inside? O-ok.. Okay."

"But you have to know.. The team will not trust you right now. We need to be especially careful, understand?"

"I..oui, yes. I will do what you say."

The Medic ran ahead, propping up the hangar door with his Medigun and taking measures to ensure there wasn't a Sentry erected here. Despite his own recognition of the Tentaspy's allegiance, the machines were still machines and they would not be so swayed by acts of defection..

He could hear the Blu approaching, but when he looked for him he could easily tell the man was hurting badly and moving with pain in each limb as he forced those frozen tentacles to drag him across solid, unforgiving ground. He ran back for him, hooking an arm under one of his own and offering as much help as he could despite the added heft of the tentacles. It was by working together that they made it inside, the hangar shutting heavily as the Medic freed his gun and turned to face the panting, shivering Spy.

Sighing with desperation, the Medic glanced around rapidly and chewed at his lower lip.

So far as he knew, no one knew he'd been going out looking for the Tentaspy. As such, no one was expecting him to reappear let alone be allowed_ inside _the complex despite the conclusions they'd reached regarding him in the mess hall last week.

What to do, what to do..

"M-Monsieur Medic?"

The man looked back at the Spy, noting him slumping against the hangar wall and still attempting to warm himself though the Medic knew full well he would need some help with that. He thought hard and approached him, holding out his Medigun, "Here... Here, take this. Hold onto this while I go for help, alright? If anyone stumbles on you, you tell them I left it with you while I was gone. There'd be no other way for you to get a hold of it in your condition."

The Blu reluctantly accepted the tool, his arms quivering under the meager weight of it as he held it close to himself and nodded a few quick times to the young doctor who was already turning tail and running up the echoing hangar hall.

He hardly expected to be clotheslined the moment he turned into the main foyer.

"Hrk!" he grunted, the back of his Medigun tanks smacking the floor and preventing his head from doing the same. Nevertheless he was dazed, feeling around to try and sit up as he peered around for what he had run into.

Still searching, he never saw what suddenly clamped a damp rag over his mouth and held it there until his eyes fluttered upward and closed.

"Bon nuit, Monsieur Medic.." murmured a soft voice as the doctor's body seemingly dragged itself from the hall and into a small storage closet. Unsurprisingly, the mint-eyed Medic was the one who stepped back out of it and turned to lock the door. It wasn't really him of course, the devious grin on his face would depict as much not to mention the suddenly casual way he walked..

It was time to pay the Sniper a visit.


	11. Act 11: Mockery and Making Up

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

It had been days since that violent interrogation and the drug in the Sniper's system was long gone.

In the brief moments he had been freed from his chair in order to use basic facilities, he tried his best to look subdued and harmless -- it's what he was, right? Harmless.. At least to this team. Never once did he try to escape or lift a hand to whoever was tasked with escorting him around.

Today it was a Soldier, his steely grip solid on one of his upper arms as they walked back toward the holding cell together. They were intercepted by the young Medic, a welcome sight being that he was usually the one to tend to his needs with more care than the others had shown. "I can take it from here, Soldier. Dismissed."

The helmet-capped man couldn't have been happier to remove his hand from the proposed traitor as he shoved him in the Medic's direction and grunted his thanks before turning to walk back up the hall.

Stumbling from the shove, the Sniper grimaced and peered after the Soldier until he felt the Medic laying a comforting hand at his shoulder, "Hey.. Come on. I'll get you set back up."

"Oh joy," the Aussie murmured. He was clearly unhappy with the idea of going back in that room, but if anyone had to do it he'd prefer it was this Medic. These days he seemed like the only friend he had left on the base which was surprising given how new to the team he was. The reasoning didn't really matter; he'd welcome any and all support with open arms.

The Medic smiled gently and nodded as they walked together, "I know you don't like it.. Hopefully they'll let you go soon?"

"Can't really complain, mate. They gave me a nice chair after all," he said with some sarcasm.

The Medic only laughed, a snort slipping into it though he was quick to calm himself and open the room door with his key card. From there it was relatively simple getting the Sniper back into his restraints. He sat down, placed his wrists and ankles into position, and sighed down at his lap as he felt the Medic moving behind him and tightening them appropriately. Next he'd probably ask if he could bring him anything. The young doctor was the reason he hadn't died from a lack of coffee yet.

He could hear the man standing back up, but after a few moments no questions came.

Chalking it up to pity, the Sniper cleared his throat, "I'll be fine."

The Medic's hand graced his shoulder again, this time turning the chair around and giving the sharpshooter a clear view of the smirk on his face, "Will you?"

Immediately suspicion set in. The doctor was by no means playful let alone _devious _-- he was far too nervous and respectful of the older team members to ever try and toy with someone in even the friendliest of fashions. "..yeh," the Sniper ventured after a moment, his eyes narrowed slightly as he lifted a brow.

That's right about when the Medic chuckled and shifted to sit in the Sniper's lap as his arm curled affectionately around his shoulder, "Aw.. good. I'd like for you to be comfortable."

The Sniper saw the man's face and clothing flicker, his white coat clipping right through the his leg as though it weren't a solid object.. because it wasn't.

"_Spoy_," he growled suddenly, jerking his head back from the man as he reached up to try and pet his face.

The mint-eyed Medic only grinned, bowing his head as he leaned against the Sniper's chest and used his free hand to lay an index finger over the Aussie's lips, "Now now.. Don't be nasty. Eef you become too loud I shall have to.. sedate you." The French accent swooped in out of nowhere, seeming truly bizarre coming from the Englishman before him.

The Aussie did the only thing he could do -- he bit the man's finger.

"Ouh!" the Spy exclaimed as he pulled it back and shook his hand with an amused laugh, "Zuch a fighter!"

"Go t' hell!"

Without waiting, the Spy's hand returned, clamping onto the Sniper's throat while various aspects of his disguise continued to glitch and flicker. It effectively prevented the Aussie from calling for help or spouting off insults, just the sort of condition the Spy required to sit up and straddle the man as his free hand pushed a thumb over the jagged scar crossing his eyes. "Ah... magnifique.." he commented, slowly pulling his hand down from the Sniper's throat and allowing him to cough and and clear his throat.

"The bloody _'ell _d'you want.." the Sniper rasped.

"Oh, I don't know.." said the faux Medic, tapping his chin with a coy expression. The Sniper met it with an even stare, not even blinking as the Spy moved to cradle his chin in one hand and pet the scar again. "Why do you make judgments of people, Monsieur Sniper? Why do you do zhat.." the Blu asked with a near pitying tone. He was mocking him, he could tell. "Don't you know? Zometimes you can be completely wrong.."

"Yeh.." the man breathed out, "First I thought you were just a rookie." The Spy roses a bit higher on his perch, looking expectant. "Now I know you're a bloody_ idiot_," he concluded, spitting at the man's face. It traveled right past his digital glasses, catching him on the cheek and causing him to flinch slightly.

Grinning darkly, the Spy bowed his head and dropped his disguise, a gloved hand lifted to wipe off the spittle, "Really.. Is zhat why you seet in zhis prison, mon Ami? Hm?" He tilted his head, leaning in dangerously close, "Is zhat.. why your leetle friends? All seem to.. hate you now?" The Sniper shifted his jaw testily. "You see, because from where I sit.. You have no one left to vouch for you. When I leave zhis room? I will _kill_ your leetle Medic friend. Zhen I will discredit.. and _kill _all of your leetle Red Spies. One by one." He smiled sweetly, tapping the Sniper on the nose, "I am sure it won't look good for you. _Partner_."

"It looks real good from where Oy'm sittin', _mate_."

Confused, the Blu blinked and frowned at the Aussie. He got the distinct feeling that something wasn't quite right and only managed to turn his head subtly before he was yanked backward by the collar of his suit, "AH! Zut alors!"

Before he could even register what was happening, he found himself on the floor with someone looming over him -- a Red Spy!

He opened his mouth to protest, eyes wide with surprise as the barrel of an Ambassador leveled and fired two quick shots into either of his kneecaps. Those protests quickly became yells of pain as he instinctively tried to push himself back across the floor and look for a method of escape. One wasn't forthcoming as he should have known, eyes moving from the locked room door and up to the suited man who reached down and grabbed his tie in order to yank his torso from the floor and press his gun over the Blu's heart.

The sound of gunshots soon brought a few people running, their footsteps sounding off in chorus up the hallway while the Blu tried to combat the pain in his legs and struggle. His tie was choking him now, the barrel of that gun pressing mercilessly against his chest while the Red Spy's trigger finger twitched tauntingly and caused him to flinch numerous times. He finally stared up at the man's face, true fear reaching him as he noted the hazel hue of his eyes.

"Do not move or I will shoot you, Monsieur," he whispered calmly.

The unarmed Blu lay there, gagging subtly at the tightness of his tie as the door to the cell swung open and hit the wall as a Heavy and the head Medic forced their way inside.

"Vhat is going on here?!" the German demanded, his mouth twisting into a snarl upon seeing the Blu.

The Sniper's friend stared placidly at the Blu below him, quite suddenly dropping him to the floor but not before pistol whipping him in much the same fashion as he had done to the Sniper only days prior. one more bullet came after that, lodging itself in the man's stomach and leaving him whimpering and writhing weakly on the floor as the Red stood straight and holstered his weapon. He turned to the Medic, reaching up to wipe a fleck of blood from his cheek, "Zhe threat has been subdued, Messieurs.. Heavy? If you would please.. escort zhis man to zhe infirmary?" His eyes moved to the Medic, "I want him stabilized, but do not heal him him entirely."

The Medic growled, failing to move from his post and putting an arm out to block the Heavy who had dutifully begun to move forward, "I vhill NOT have zhis on my base, Herr Spy. Do you understand me? Kill him_ now _or I vhill do it myself!"

"Little man is big trouble," the Heavy agreed, looking from the squirming Blu to the Red Spy who merely brushed his hands together and met the Medic's fury with an eerie calm.

"Precisely, Messieurs. Zhat is why I want him."

"Dummkopf! Are you insane??" the Medic hissed, advancing on the Spy and peering at the Blu with a look of utter contempt, "He has killed a man and attacked anozher. How can you not admonish such atrocity??"

"Zhe man is merely doing his job, Monsieur Medic."

The German would not be moved, his cold eyes boring right through the Red Spy as he waited for an explanation far better than that one.

"You see what he has done to our colleagues.. Imagine if we could recruit zhat? Why do you zhink he has not killed more of us? He merely wishes to show off his skill.." The Medic narrowed his eyes further, fully prepared to go for the Bonesaw at his waist though a flicker of curiosity spurred in him as the Blu Spy began hacking up blood and clutching feebly at his leaking stomach. "Full restraints, full guard.. I can talk to him, mon Ami.." the Red whispered encouragingly.

The Sniper said nothing through all of this, simply sitting there and watching the Blu suffer on the floor roughly ten feet away.

"Heavy," the Medic said suddenly, eyes still focused on the wounded man, "Bring zhe Spy to de infirmary, bitte. I vhill join you zhere."

"Da, Doktor!" the big man said, stepping around the two of them and scooping the wounded man up with ease. He wasn't gentle with the Blu as evidenced by the sharp cry of pain that left him as he was plucked from the floor and subsequently carried from the room. The Medic left soon after, giving the Red Spy a pondering look as he pulled the door shut.

Silence took up the space left by the doctor and heavy weapons specialist, the only sound being the creak of the Sniper's chair as he ventured a glance in the Spy's direction.

"You knew he'd be here, didn't you?"

The masked man said nothing for the moment, glancing down at his shoes as he tucked his hands behind his back and nodded. A few seconds later, he found the courage to turn and walk to the Sniper, kneeling as he began to work the binds loose from his hands and feet.

"I entered and cloaked zhe moment you left with zhe Soldier. ..I knew zhe temptation to come and mock you would be too great after seeing you felled by your allies."

The Sniper looked across the room as he was being freed, turning the words over in his head, "So.. You knew the whole time?"

"I had to do it, Sniper.. It was zhe only way I knew to get him to come and clear your name unwittingly." The Red Spy pulled the handcuffs free and tossed them up onto the table though he remained crouched beside the chair. "Zhey do not trust my word as zhey once did.. Zhis entire fiasco has severely damaged not only your reputation, but mine as well."

When he found that the Aussie still wasn't looking at him, the Spy frowned and got to his feet.

"He was watching us zhe entire time -- I had to put on an act," said the Spy, his voice clearly groping for understanding from the Aussie who merely glanced his way and caused him to falter in confidence.

Rubbing his newly-freed wrists, the Sniper examined the deep red grooves left in them from his restraints. He pulled in a long inhale and let it out with control while the Spy beside him squirmed with internal fret. The man had no idea what the marksman was thinking at the moment. Was he hurt? Angry? Would he be out for revenge again him for using him as bait?

"Monsieur Sniper.."

"Pierce," the Aussie interrupted.

"I beg your pardon," the Spy stated with some uncertainty.

He watched the Sniper push himself up out of the chair, long limbs flexed as he looked at the Spy again, "That's my name."

The Spy seemed to be at a loss as the Aussie stepped around him and walked away. No doubt he'd be headed for the briefing room -- there was a lot that needed to be discussed now. But.. What had just happened? Was he forgiven? Scorned?

With the question readily painted on his face, the masked man fished a cigarette out of his suit and lit it worriedly as he followed the Sniper out of the holding cell.


	12. Act 12: Heat

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

"The hills are bare noo, and Autumn leaves--"

"Mm-mpph, mmh?"

"No, lad, yeh're doin' it wrong, it's 'thick and still', nawt 'still and thick'," the Demoman corrected.

"Mm.." said the Pyro who was currently walking around with him. News of the Blu Spy's capture had broken out and they were among those who decided to make one last sweep of the base to be sure there wouldn't be any more intruders. At present they were in the hangar wing closest to what used to be the main battlefield and trying to sing _Flower of Scotland _though the masked man was having a bit of trouble with comprehension. The Demoman's accent didn't help much

"From theh top then, laddy!" he proclaimed as they continued up the hallway, "O Flow'ra Scawtland--"

_BANG BANG BANG._

The pair paused at the sudden noise, peering toward the door it had come from. The Pyro looked as intrigued as he could while wearing a full face mask and the Demoman suspiciously took a swig from his bottle of Scrumpy.

"If yeh doon't like ma singin' yeh doon't have to listen!" he accused the door.

"Help!" came a muffled cry from inside.

They noted the door handle quivering, another series of bangs assaulting it from the other side. Looking at one another, the pair approached and tried to get the door open though it was locked soundly. The Demoman rubbed his bristly mouth with a hand and grunted thoughtfully before banging a fist on the door and declaring, "Stand back, laddeh! I'll get ya oot!"

The Pyro arched his shoulders apprehensively when the Demoman pulled his Stickybomb thrower off his back and stepped aside to aim at the door. He wasted no time in backing off and clapping his hands over his ears as the one-eyed maniac decorated all four corners of the door with sticky bombs and laid one at the door knob for good measure. It might have been a good time for someone to tell him about key cards, but the sudden explosion that followed would have only drowned out the advice.

Comically, the door rattled on its hinges, seeming unaffected before slowly tipping outward and falling flat against the hall floor.

The Scotsman laughed triumphantly and swung his gun back over his shoulder with a cheerful grin as the young Medic stumbled toward the doorway in a daze. "Thot's the way yeh do it!" he insisted, shaking his Scrumpy at the Brit who shook his head to try and clear the ringing from it as he advanced on the Demoman and gestured anxiously with his hands.

"Sir? Sir, I don't have much time to explain -- I have a patient in the hangar back there who needs help and I.. I'm not strong enough to carry him." His gaze flitted between the two men, "Could you help?"

The Demoman lifted an eyebrow, humming at the Medic whose anxiety seemed to be going through the roof with each passing moment that he did not get a reply.

"Mm-hmmph! Mm mmh!" the Pyro decided with a positive nod. He hefted his axe and started off in the direction the Medic had pointed, the Demoman shrugging and deciding to pursue.

Sighing with great relief, the Medic clasped his hands together and briefly lifted them skyward before darting off ahead of the pair to try and return to his patient. It had to have been at least an hour and a half since his initial hold-up -- hopefully he would be OK..

Things were tense in the infirmary. Almost everyone on the Red team wanted access to the Blu prisoner who had caused them so much mischief and the loss of a man's life. It took three Heavies to keep the Soldiers from barreling into the room with shotguns, Snipers working to calm down the other classes who had a good many words to fling in the Blu's direction.

The Blu Spy couldn't hear any of it.

Laying on his back, he tried to focus on anything but the head Medic digging around in his stomach with a pair of medical clamps. The mercy of painkillers prevented him from screaming though his bound wrists, ankles, and chest made it impossible to achieve any sort of real comfort. He looked at the Medic instead, tears falling freely from his eyes though he felt no sadness for the moment. Great pain tolerance? Not so much. And even with drugs running through him, he could still feel the occasional twang of pain. Clearly they'd done it on purpose.

Heal him, but not all the way.. Ugh..

The German ignored him while he worked, clearly a professional in his field with no tolerance for distraction. He could literally feel the heat of the man's hatred rolling off of him but at the same time a very firm sense of dedication to his work. The Blu was in good hands as much as it appeared to be the opposite.

Half an hour later the physician was washing his hands in the sink when a new commotion came to his door. He scowled over his shoulder, he decided to see what it was before it got here..

"C'moon Medic, pick uh yeh'r end, yeh're nawt even trying!"

"I'm trying!"

"Mm-ph mmm!" the Pyro defended as the trio from the hangar came carrying what looked like an unconscious.. Tentaspy in the room? Huh..

"Doctor, we've goot another one for yeh!" the Demoman called as he shouldered his way inside.

The Medic shook off his hands upon seeing the Spy's off-color skin tone. He recognized what was wrong and immediately grabbed a cot in order to wheel it closer to the door, "Lay him hier. Gently! Put him down slow. Pyro, fetch blankets from zhe cupboard, move!"

The Demoman and the younger Medic worked to get the frozen Blu onto the table though there was no hope of fitting the tentacles onto it -- they were simply too long!

Pushing the cot toward the center of the room, the German shoved up his glasses and placed a hand to the Spy's throat to check for a pulse. Huh.. thready, but still there. His eyes lifted to the younger Medic who was helping the Pyro to unfold the blankets that had been brought, "How long has he been zhis way?"

"A.. An hour? A little more, he was conscious then."

The German snapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth, reaching for the Spy's waistcoat and pulling it and his shirt open as fast as possible. He wasted no time in pulling the sopping wet clothing off and dropping it to the floor beside him as he grabbed one end of the blanket in the other Medic's hands and hurried to drape it over the Spy's torso. The Pyro took the hint, helping to layer more blankets and tuck them accordingly while the Demoman dragged another cot over and tried to set up the tentacles on it.

As far as he was concerned, they were treating Nessie. Nessie with a facemask. As such, he would do whatever was necessary to nurse him back to health if only for the sole purpose of perpetuating the life of such a mythical creature. The weirdness of the situation? He could think about that later over a fresh bottle of Scrumpy.

When all was said and done, the four of them had covered the lifeless Tentaspy in a copious amount of wool and cotton. The head Medic had since set up an intravenous line to pump more heat into the man, the mint-eyed Brit pulling up a chair and removing his gloves so that he could sit at bedside and reach under the blankets to rub some heat into the Spy's nearest arm.

"He was supposed to follow the Blus. ..If he wakes up, maybe he can tell us where they went," he remarked quietly.

"Well I'll be damned, lads! Oy thot fehr sure he wouldn't be comin' bock!"

The Blu Spy on the bed near the wall only listened, his view of the infirmary cut off by a curtain which had been erected specifically for that purpose.

His wounds were all stitched by hand save for the one in his gut. It was the only one that had seen the use of a Medigun from that grim-faced German for it was the only one that could have killed him if left untreated. The rest of him lay sore and bleeding lazily, the stitches precise and effective those without any sort of love to them. They were the bare minimum..

Even if he weren't strapped down, he couldn't have gotten away. The thought made him sick inside, his pride coming up in the back of his mind to nag him for being captured yet again. He'd gotten cocky.. And being cocky had made him vulnerable.

..damnit.

He heard the four other men talking amongst themselves on the topic of the Tentaspy, himself, the Sniper, and even poker for a little while until he heard the Pyro and Demo bidding the Medics goodbye on their way out.

The head Medic pushed the infirmary doors closed, glancing back at the younger man who had replaced his gloves and was gathering the Spy's tattered outfit from the floor. The suit, which looked like it may have been quite expensive at one time, was incredibly blood-stained and tattered toward the bottom. No doubt those dark red marks had graced it long before that lost tentacle, the torn edges of it evidence of such.

The young man looked so determined.. so _studious_ as he stood and bundled the wet clothing into the laundry hamper against the wall. His look of concern for the unconscious Blu did not go unmarked by the German physician.

"He is stable, you know."

The young Brit paused at bedside and looked over to find the man staring at him with a set of gently folded arms. "Oh I.. I know, thank you," he said, swallowing subtly as the other Medic approached and checked the liquid drip leading into one of the Tentaspy's arms.

"..Sir?"

"Herr Doktor," the man corrected.

"Herr Doktor.." he amended quietly, tucking the Tentaspy's blankets more snugly against his chin, "I see the Blu Spy has been captured.. Does this mean.." The German tilted his head, a neutral expression currently in place of the frown he worse everywhere else. "Is the Sniper cleared of his accusations?"

"I vhould assume as much, ja.. Dey are holding a meeting in zhe briefing room now."

"And.. him?" the minty-eyed doctor gestured to the Tentaspy.

This earned a subtle smile from the head Medic, "_He_ hasn't killed any of us yet."


	13. Act 13: Flicker Of Trust

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

The briefing room wasn't as crowded as it should have been today.

Three Soldiers, three Spies, the blonde Scout, and the Red Sniper had all gathered subtly to discuss what would happen in light of new evidence that had been retrieved.

It was all laying out on the table.. Ashes, the equipment confiscated from the captured Blu Spy. A Demoman had even dropped by briefly to inform the group that the Tentaspy had just returned and was under medical care at the moment. Everyone in the room knew in their hearts that they had sent an innocent man to a holding cell though most were too proud to openly admit it. No doubt they were already building excuses to satisfy their consciences.

The short Spy was among those who chose to stand, peering across the table to where the Scout sat with his sneakers kicked up on the table and his arms folded behind his head. His chair teetered backward on two legs. "Jhentlemen, clearly with all of zhis information, we are going to have to make a new decision regarding how we proceed from here.." he offered openly though his gaze seemed to stay mostly on the Scout and the sullen Aussie who sat beside him with his arms folded on the tabletop.

The Scout smiled bitterly, staring right back at him until the Spy looked away toward the Soldiers.

They grunted and glanced between one another before the Soldier on the far left spoke up, "We've got our man. I'd say Sniper's free to go."

Another Soldier agreed, shaking his cigar at the pile of proof at the center of the table, "He's a good soldier and now we've got concrete proof!" The man tipped up his helmet with a thumb, looking toward the Aussie who had since put his glasses back on. His expression was fairly unreadable. "Hopefully we can put all of this mess behind us, boys. We've got a war to win!" he insisted.

"How long til it happens again?" the Scout asked suddenly, drawing the attention of the others gathered. He was the youngest one in the room, a few years shy of the younger Soldier who sat off to his right and as such, his bold question raised a few brows. "How long til you guys uh.. get your panties in a wad and toss some other schmuck in that room and fuck with 'em for no reason? Is it gonna be a Scout next time? Time-out for runnin' in the halls?"

The many-cigged Spy frowned and lit another while the Sniper's friend failed to reply.

It was the short Spy who eventually piped up, "We had reason, boy. I understand you might choose not to believe zhat however.."

"Yea.. You had reason.." the Scout said coldly.

"Boys? I will _not _tolerate fighting amongst ourselves. We've got enough enemies out there for all of us," a Soldier insisted.

"Are we finished here?" the Sniper asked suddenly, effectively hushing the Scout who looked about ready to spout off some nasty language.

The shorter Spy sighed gently, adjusting his tie uncomfortably, "..Yes, we're finished. Everyone? As you were.. Zhere is no conspiracy here."

People began clearing out of the briefing room, likely going out to spread the news to the rest of the team. They all left feeling haunted, though the Scout stayed behind with the Sniper. The man's Spy friend considered staying, but he eventually pushed himself out into the hallway and shut the door with a frown. He didn't feel welcome at the moment..

Pulling his shoes off the table, the Scout dropped his chair to all fours and tried to look the Aussie in the face, "You gonna be OK, dude?"

He didn't receive an answer at first, but eventually the man peered his way and nodded, "Yeh, mate.."

"Looks like they beat the shit outta you, man.."

"Oy'll see the Medic, it's no big deal."

The Scout knew better. He may not have wanted to admit it, but he was sensitive to the feelings of other people. He didn't usually act on it of course -- he usually didn't _care_ how other people felt. But the Sniper? They'd gotten kinda.. OK with one another. The Sniper seemed to catch whatever worried look the Scout was trying to hide, a small smile gracing his weathered face.

"Patience, mate. Everything valuable takes time -- that goes for trust too." He lifted a hand to rub at his mouth while peering toward the door, "They learned their lesson about me, it just took a li'le while."

"Hey, Snipes.. Were you really on Blu once?" he figured he ought to ask as long as the truth was being told. They sat in the briefing room, supposedly the most secure room in the entire base when the vents were sealed properly. If it wasn't safe to talk about it here, where would it be?

The Aussie removed his hat, pushing a hand back through his hair with a relaxed sigh before looking at the boy and nodding curtly, "Oy was, yeh.. Didn't know what Oy was gettin' into. ..got out as soon as I learned."

"You mean like that Tentaspy dude?"

"He was tellin' me he iddn't the only one they were workin' on. Moy best guess is they moved someplace to hide from us. Maybe to keep it up.. make more just like 'im."

The Scout shuddered at the idea and rubbed the back of his neck, 'Wow.. Guess I didn't, uh.." The Sniper tilted his head. "Guess I never figg'ered a Blu dude might be all right.."

"It's only a color, mate," the Sniper pointed out as he put his hat back on and rose from the table, "A man is something entirely different."

The Scout gestured about with light embarrassment, "Well.. Well yea. I mean.. Heh, yea I know_ that_."

"C'mon, Scout. Let's head for the infirmary. They said that Tentaspoy's back, roight? Oy'm sure he'd be glad t'see you.."

For the first time all afternoon, the Scout looked positive. A small smile of excitement lit up his face as he stood and shoved his chair under the table, "Ya think so? I mean hey if that's what the guy wants. I don't got anything better to do."

The Sniper.. smirked and shook his head as he exited the room with the blonde trailing behind him.

"Straight South.. eet looked like zhe entire team was with zhem."

The Sniper's friend had made it to the infirmary first, his brow furrowed as he stood beside the awakened Tentaspy and drew answers from him. The blue tint had since left his skin though he was still relatively cool to the touch..

"Our men included?" he asked.

"I could not get close enough.. zhe tracks veered too far from zhe water, you know?

The two Medics from earlier were still around; the German in his office filing paperwork and the Englishman rearranging the medicine cabinet while the two Spies talked. The captive Blu Spy across the room seemed to be forgotten, laying there aching and nervous when the mint-eyed Medic suddenly snuck behind the curtain partition and glanced back over his shoulder cautiously.

Suspicious, the Blu sneered at him. "What are _you_ doing?" he spat quietly.

The young man came to bedside, lifting a syringe and flicking it gently, "They didn't numb you properly, did they?"

The Blu looked unimpressed and narrowed his eyes, "What do you care?"

Ignoring the man's arrogant stare, he pushed the needle into his exposed arm and pushed on the plunger. The Spy, presently shirtless due to the head Medic's removing of the bullets, shuddered against the feel of fluid pumping into his arm and ground his teeth until a pleasant and cooling numbness came over the areas which had previously ailed him. For a few moments he didn't look at the Medic as he patched up the entry point and set the syringe aside.

"Why?" he asked angrily though the feeling was obviously half-hearted.

"I took an oath to do no harm. .. at least not when it wasn't necessary," the Englishman admitted as he pushed up his glasses. The Spy looked toward him, glancing him up and down as if trying to determine something. "They say you're one of the Blu's newer recruits.."

"Oui.. And you would appear to be one of the Red's."

The Medic shrugged neutrally and laid a gloved hand gently on the Spy's shoulder as he leaned down to check the stitches. The Blu seemed utterly baffled by this show of care, frowning but not necessarily shooing the man away. "So.. do you have any plans to get free and kill us all or are you pretty much done?" the Medic asked as he reached for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a small bag of cotton swabs.

The Spy scrunched his nose, arching an incredulous eyebrow at the man.

He only shrugged shyly and wetted one of the cotton balls before cleaning at some of the stitches which had begun to leak, "It's a fair curiosity isn't it? I mean, you already tried with me." Shifting his jaw with uncertainty, the Blu blinked a few times and looked away. "Well?"

"Zhat eez a ridiculous question! You are zhe enemy!"

The Medic only smiled and discarded the swabs he'd dirtied through the cleaning of the man's wounds. His gloved hand graced the Spy's body again, this time laying itself over the man's recently-healed stomach which caused him to flinch and look down at it with light concern. "I'll tell you what, Blu. In my experience, we don't heal the enemy if we don't have a reason to do so."

"_Torture_," the man growled insistently as he frowned up at the younger man.

"Is that how Blu does it?" The Spy didn't respond to that which only added to the mint-eyed man's confidence, "Don't forget, you're in the Red base now. If you're not dead yet, it means things are probably looking up." He stood then, adjusting his glasses and slipping craftily from the curtained-off area without drawing the suspicion of the others in the room. It was then that the Spy glanced toward the cotton-covered needle point in his arm, baffled by the heart-patterned bandaid that held it in place.

As he moved back into the open, the Medic could see that others had entered the room -- a Scout and a Sniper to be specific. He saw that they were all speaking together and decided to stay out of their way for the time being.

"Heeeey, Tentadude!" the Scout said with a bright grin. He'd successfully interrupted the business conversation the man had been having with the Red Spy beside him, reveling in the look of disapproval he got from the hazel-eyed man of mystery who puffed seriously at a cigarette.

The Sniper wasn't far behind, walking with leisure through the infirmary doors as the Tentaspy perked up and smiled at the the Scout's energetic behavior, "Ah, Scout.. Did you miss me?"

"Thought you wasn't comin' back, dude! The fuck happened out there anyway?" he asked, looking between the two Spies with an utter disregard for the professionalism the Red Spy was trying to maintain.

Pushing himself up into a more upright position, the Blu Tentaspy smiled weakly at the Sniper as he graced the bedside next to the Scout. They exchanged understanding nods before he began explaining his river journey. From the trailing of the Blus to his fight with a bear, he laid it all out in simple terms.

"A fuckin' bear!" Scout exclaimed as he tensed up, "Aw _**man**_.. I fuckin' _missed _that?"

The Sniper and Blu seemed amused while the Red Spy checked his watch.

"Ah oui, Scout.. Perhaps we'll run into anozher bear together sometime?" The blonde didn't even try to contain his excitement, barraging the man with more quirky questions as the Sniper stealthily stepped around the table and pulled the Red Spy aside by one arm.

He followed quietly, a brow arched with some confusion once they got to the wall, "Yes?"

"You look like you're in an awful hurry to get out've 'ere, mate. Something the matter?" The Spy opened his mouth. "Don't lie to me now." And closed it.

He smiled and peered at the floor as he cleared his throat and blew a bit of smoke off to one side so that it would not hit the Sniper's nose as he looked hesitantly back up to him, "You are not upset?"

"Oy was, yeh.." the Aussie explained. He folded his arms loosely and leaned sideways again the wall, "Oy thought about laying you out, too. ..but then Oy realized that'd be too easy -- hardly satisfying then."

"Too easy??" the Red sputtered, calming sheepishly when he saw the Sniper grin. "..so zhis eez your way of telling me zhat I'm forgiven?"

"In a manner o' speakin', mate, yeh. Life's too short for grudges even if you _did _beat the ever-lovin' shite outta me."

The Spy shook his head subtly, chuckling with disbelief, "Well? ..all right zhen, I.. huh.."

He shrugged, speechless for the moment as the Sniper extended a hand and he shook it with silent understanding, "Now, go get me that Medic over there. You bruised my ribs, ya bloody spook."

"I'm on it."


	14. Act 14: Decisions

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

---

Later that night, the world seemed to be at ease.

The team trusted one another (mostly), the Blu Spy was securely imprisoned and under the watchful eye of the head Medic, and communications had been passed back and forth between the base and the truck they had sent out after the Blus. It wouldn't be long until their trail was picked up again, but for now an order had been sent out for the truck to return until more solid plans could be made.

The Scout had convinced the Tentaspy to come and play catch with him outside the workshop where the Engineer and the Red Sniper were sitting together and talking. The Engie appeared to be busy putting something together which had come as a request from the hazel-eyed Spy though from the looks of it, no one but the Engineer had any clue what it was.

It didn't detour the conversation at all.

"I thought they had you down for the count, partner," the hard hat said as he beat ruthlessly on a piece of scrap metal with his wrench.

"Did _you _think I did it?" the Sniper asked, his attention distracted briefly by a baseball whizzing past the open workshop door followed by the end of the tentacle that had pitched it.

"Woulda been a hard call to make, I guar'untee." He snapped something into place on the table, groping around for a pair of pliers which he used to pull some of the metal into shape, "But naw. I'm a right good judge of character -- Especially you Snipers. You boys don't play games with how you feel and what you want."

The Aussie smiled and sipped from his white mug with a subtle nod, "Less trouble that way. Now.. are you sure you can't tell me what that is?" he asked, gesturing to what looked like android guts being pushed into a ring of polished steel.

The Engie stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth with a concentrated smile as he leaned forward to adjust some wires and lace them together and. "Wouldn't you like to know," he chuckled.

"Foine, I'll guess. Is it.. a shock collar?"

"Hoo boy, close, but no." He reached for some thin plastic tubing and began to measure it out, cutting it to a certain length and moving around the table to a boring machine to put a few holes into the metal ring. The Sniper did not have as advanced a mechanical eye as the Engineer. As far as he could tell, the man was building a spaceship. ..a really tiny spaceship.

"A regular collar?"

"Cold."

The Sniper sighed in good spirits, his gloved hand scratching at his chin thoughtfully, "Is it a collar of any kind?"

"Brrrr, it's freezin' in here!" the Engie taunted, shutting down the machine and reaching for the tubing and a tube of durable glue to secure it up against one of the holes from the inside of the ring. He stole a goggled glance toward the Sniper, shrugging a shoulder, "Gonna give up?"

"Never," the Aussie insisted. He took a sip of coffee, snorting suddenly as the shape of the object combined with its size brought on revelation, "Oh lord, that's an ankle bracelet, isn't it.."

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner," the Engineer said casually as he stepped around the Sniper to get to work welding some tiny metal parts together. He appeared to be adding a motherboard of sorts to the device, requiring a magnifier for some of the work.

The marksman formed a loose fist with his free hand and rested his chin on it as he watched the Engie work, "C'mon now, tell me more."

"Heheh. S'pose it wouldn't be right makin' you guess all the rest of this here marvel.. She's a modification on your regular ol' house arrest anklet complete with a reloadable fluid chamber for any number of your favorite household sedatives with a remote-activated injection system complete with tracking device and heart rate monitor."

"..So this is what you do during ceasefire? Invent things?"

"Aw heck no, this is what I did during the ten minutes it took to walk here."

Back in the infirmary, a more tactical discussion was about to begin..

The Blu Spy flinched on his bed, looking over with great distaste as a pair of Spies entered his curtained prison and fixed him with relaxed smiles. He recognized one of them as the man who had beat and shot him in the prison cell, the other was only recognizable for his short stature though he could already assume he wasn't going to like him as he pulled up a chair and sat at the foot of his medical cot.

Saying nothing, he watched as the taller of the pair moved for the head of the bed and feathered a few fingers over the stitches in his shoulder with a quiet hum, "Good evening, Monsieur Blu."

The man simply glared up at him and looked away.

Undeterred, the Red Spy withdrew his hand and used it to procure his cigarette case. Tapping one of the sticks against its metal shell, he smiled contently and tilted his head, "I am not here to interrogate you, you know."

The Blu shifted his jaw warily and frowned as he looked back up at the Red. "Zhen what do you want?" he asked, a blatant tone of annoyance tugging at his words.

Shrugging, the Red flicked up a flame from his lighter, cradling it as he brought the cigarette to his lips and set it alight, "I thought perhaps a chat was in order. Surely you do not wish to lay zhere until zhe war is over?" The Blu gave him an exasperated look, glancing to the other Spy and then back as he waited for him to continue. Relaxedly tucking his case and lighter away, the Red Spy took a soft drag of his cigarette, "Why did you sign on wizh Blu anyway? Combat experience?"

"I thought zhis wasn't an interrogation?"

"Oh it isn't, Monsieur, you're free to ignore me," the Red assured, his eyes calmly rested on the Blu whose glare weakened as a result.

"..I will ask you again, what do you _want_?"

The standing Spy smiled gently and nodded a bit, admiring the man's willingness to get to the point of things, "I want to know if you would consider leaving Blu. I want to know eef a new member like you has much of an attachment to zhem.." He reached up to pluck the cigarette from his mouth, peering at it for a moment or two before offering it to the restrained Blu.

He was sorely tempted to refuse it, but being that it was held right there burning so pleasantly under his nose, he took it with his teeth and averted his gaze to the ceiling, "Non. I have no one zhere."

"How long do you zhink it would have been until zhey discovered your inability to kill?"

The Blu did not answer for a few moments, choosing to enjoy the secondhand cigarette as much as he dared to in the presence of the other men, "I killed your Soldier."

"A fluke. Eet was sloppy at best and you failed with zhe Sniper, zhe Pyro, _and_ zhe Medic," the Red pointed out. He won a glare from the Blu though he could see in the man's eyes that he agreed. Still, his intent for the evening was not to anger the man. Instead he leaned back a bit, looking harmless as he folded an arm behind his back and gestured with his free hand, "Be honest with yourself, mon Ami.. Zhey would have gotten rid of you at zhe first chance zhey could eef zhey were to find out. Zhey would never consider using your _ozher_ skills. And now.. Would zhey take you back?"

The more the Blu Spy thought about it, the more he hated it. Being captured by the Reds certainly would not speak well in his favor and without proper training he would be picked off in the field -- possibly by one of his own teammates. "What good am I to you?" he ventured as pridefully as he could from his laying position on the cot.

"Not jhust me, Monsieur Blu.." the Red began, free hand rested on the bed frame as he leaned forward over the reclining man, "You are intelligent, crafty. No doubt a man of your faculties could be taught easily to become a more efficient killer?"

The ego stroking felt nice of course, but the fact that it was coming from the enemy felt downright.. awkward.

"Or we could jhust kill you, of course," said the Red Spy casually, "Do you support zhe Blu experiments? Zheir lackluster value of a human life?"

Truth be told, that made the Blu think..

Ever since he had arrived at the Blu base he had felt judged and eyeballed. The halls were cold and not always from the temperature. He'd only felt safe in his own room and even among the other Spies he had felt like an outsider. At the same time he felt like he was being tricked into becoming a traitor. Unacceptable! ..but perhaps the only thing he could do.

The Red Spy could see the gears turning in the Blu's eyes, a gloved hand placing itself over one of his own and pulling him from his thoughts, "I didn't think so, mon Ami. And zhat is quite all right." The Blu opened his mouth to protest but the Red kept up, "You only joined zhem because it would be a chance to look official, non? Zhe choice between Red and Blu.. eet was a coin toss, wasn't it?"

The Blu puffed on his cigarette and blinked a few times. He was trying to look irritable, but it was only because he had been found out.

"I am giving you zhe chance to fight for somezhing you can believe in.. A chance to be a real Spy, mon Ami."

"And what _do_ you believe in, Red? What eez so romantic about zhe Red team zhat I should become a traitor?" the Blu asked with obvious uncertainty putting a waver in his voice.

"I believe in a world where we do not mutilate our fellow man and inflict suffering for zhe sheer purpose of proving zhat we can do it, Blu," he said, hazel eyes warm with a brownish hue to them, "And I believe in second chances for zhose who would choose to share zhat mindset."

The shorter Spy bowed his head gently, clearing his throat to draw his comrade's attention, "I propose we let him zhink it over. Surely zhe man is tired.." He looked toward him and nodded as he got to his feet, "Whatever he decides, I am sure he will make zhe right choice."

The Sniper's friend smiled and looked back toward the Blu as the short Spy bowed out of the curtained area. "Ah, mon Ami.. Do not make zhis any harder for yourself zhan it has been.. I will come in zhe morning to see how you are feeling. We will speak again, all right?" Naturally, the Blu didn't have any words for the Red who reached over and took back his cigarette to resume smoking it himself. Clearly he had no qualms about essentially putting the man's spittle in his mouth. It spoke volumes to the Blu as he watched the Red stand tall and pat his only uninjured shoulder on his way out of the infirmary.

Between this and the oddly-affectionate treatment the young Medic had given him, he had a lot to think about.


	15. Act 15: Waking Up, Moving On

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

_P.S. I'm slowly easing names into the story so it isn't too much of a shock. Most of the characters already have names, but right now they're being used for clarification in multi-class scenes._

---

The brunette Scout was up early today, making a rare trip to the infirmary.

It wasn't rare for him to be there, actually -- he was one of the head Medic's most frequent fliers in terms of field-related damage. But he never came by when he wasn't obligated.

Today was different.

Sitting on a backwards chair, he sipped from a can of Bonk and sighed at the man laying in front of him. It was the Pyro who had been attacked in the kitchen and placed in a coma. The Medics wouldn't tell him anything specific, though he'd managed to get a best guess out of the younger one. 75% chance of recovery if kept in a stable medical facility. Huh..

He wasn't even supposed to be sitting in here -- the only reason the head Medic allowed it was because of the Scout's insistence that he and the Pyro were good friends. It wasn't a complete lie, he'd made a fair effort to keep in touch with the guy after things became a bit warmer around base. The Pyro was a pretty cool dude from what he had learned. He used to be a firefighter before the war and had a baby daughter back home being raised by his wife. He even got to find out about his breathing problems when asked about the gas mask, several light-hearted jokes being passed between them on the subjects of Darth Vader and storm troopers.

There would be no jokes today, the Scout realized, watching the man's chest rise and fall with the aid of machinery.

Man.. Even laying there with his mask off, the guy still looked like a total badass. Auburn hair, a flash burned cheek.. That friggen_ awesome _hawk's foot tattooed down the side of his neck. The Scout couldn't help but smile as he ventured a few words in his direction, "C'mon dude.. S'almost eight o'clock, when you gonna wake up, huh?"

He watched the Pyro for a little longer, emptying out his Bonk can and making a winning toss into the nearest waste can with it.

The infirmary doors swung open after that, a single set of footsteps crossing the polished floor to admit one (1) Red Spy -- the Sniper's friend. So long as they weren't coming toward him, the Scout decided to ignore him and focus on the Pyro.

As it happened they were not coming toward him, but rather moving toward the other curtained-off bed in the infirmary -- that of the Blu captive.

Pushing it open slightly, the Red peered inside to find the man still sleeping. Huh.. No doubt his days of hiding in the vents hadn't resulted in any meaningful rest. Still, this meeting could not be delayed.. Stepping past the curtain entirely, the Red Spy pulled up a chair and sat down.

The Blu's first waking thoughts were that someone was coming to kill him.

He jolted, cut short by his restraints as his eyes flew open and focused on the Red Spy who had been patting him on the shoulder and murmuring gently in French to wake him. Panting with surprise and distaste, he quickly ground his teeth and frowned with light shame at this jumpy response. The Red simply waited for him to blink himself into awareness before saying anything further.

_"Bonjour, Monsieur. How did you sleep?" _the Blu realized he was speaking in solid French, comforted mildly by the fact though he wasn't about to get cozy while he was still strapped to a bed..

_"It was suitable," _he replied arrogantly.

_"Bien.." _He reached forward to pull the Blu's blanket a bit higher on his chest -- no doubt he'd be cold with it exposed like that. _"Have you considered my offer?"_

_"Oui.."_ the Blu said nothing more, clearly wishing to make the Red work for an answer out of some dire need for respect.

_"Very good.. And what have you decided, mon Ami?"_

_"I zhink you already know. You are more obvious zhan you realize.."_ the Blu said with a measure of irritation.

The Sniper's friend only smiled, head tucked down and tilted before he continued, _"I do not mean to appear so foreboding, Monsieur. Clearly joining Red eez your only viable option.."_ There was no reply from the Blu until the Red Spy suddenly stood and began to free him from his restraints. He spoke as he did so, leaning over him to reach for his far arm, _"Zhey asked me to kill you when I came here today. Zhe trust is still raw, I assure.."_ The Blu Spy furrowed his brow, but found he had no words. _"But I believe you will be compliant.. Zhere is no reason for you to kill any more of us, oui?"_

_"..Non."_

The Blu didn't lunge for the Red as his last ankle was free and, likewise, the Red Spy's Ambassador never left his coat. They were at a stalemate of sorts -- peace, however tense it may have been.

The Blu captive sat up slowly, honey-flecked eyes locked on the Sniper's friend as he rubbed his wrists and attempted to sit up straighter. _"My clothes?"_

_"But of course.." _said the Red Spy, his attention daringly leaving the man as he bent down to pull a plastic parcel out from under the bed. He offered it to the Blu, head tilted as a pleasant smile appeared on his face, _"I took zhe liberty of procuring a new shirt and tie for you. Zhe suit, however, will need some time before it can be replaced." _

Accepting the bag with a neutral expression, the Blu finally quit staring at the Red Spy in order to examine the articles more directly. ..the tie was red. The Red operative folded his arms behind his back with a gentle grin, _"Trust me, eet looks jhust fine on blue. Oh.. and zhere is zhe small matter of zhese.." _He reached forward and drew out the only other red articles in the bag. Armbands. _"Purely for your own protection, I assure you.."_

_"So you really knew what I would decide.. How did you know I would not try to escape or commit suicide?"_ asked the Blu, his attention currently distracted by getting dressed as he swung his legs off of the bed.

_"Oh __**Monsieur**__,"_ said the Red with a mock look of affront, _"We men of mystery do not commit suicide in the face of great opportunity. Men like us.. We seize the day." _The two met eyes for a moment while the Blu was adjusting his tie, the ghost of a smile passing his lips. _"Come, I have someone I'd like you to speak with."_

The head Medic was in a questionable mood as he watched the two men depart. They didn't see him as they left, the positioning of his office doorway preventing a clear view of the German standing with his arms crossed firmly and watching them through the blinds of his window. Did he trust the word of the Red Spies that they would take this newcomer under wing and shape him into a Red? Trust could not be determined from his ever present sneer, but he let them move throughout the base as they pleased..

"**DOC! **Doc, man, get in here!"

It was the Scout, his sudden shouts drawing the Medic's attention away from the pair as they disappeared out the door.

In less than thirteen seconds he shoved aside the curtain shielding the Pyro, eyes expectant and roving the scene before him. The Scout was on his feet with a hand on one of the Pyro's arms, "Dude look! He's wakin' up! What do we do?"

Sneering predictably, the Medic checked the machines and then stepped forward. he rudely shoved the Scout aside and checked the Pyro's pulse before watching his face. The man's eyes opened subtly, a sigh leaving him and entering the oxygen mask secured over his mouth and nose.

The Scout was less than thrilled to be shoved around but he only moved to the Medic's side and grabbed the side of the cot to lean over it and gawk, "Hey man, it's me! You OK?"

"Scout shut up, you'll just confuse him," the Medic barked, causing the young man to huff but say nothing more. "Herr Pyro, do you know where you are?" the doctor asked, his tone moving from angry to soothing in a matter of seconds. The Pyro blinked gently and looked at him for answers. "You vhere attacked in zhe mess hall, zhe man has since been captured and punished." After a bit more staring, the Pyro gave a subtle nod and sighed again with relief.

"Is he OK?" the brunette asked, unable to hold in his enthusiasm.

Rolling his eyes, the Medic gave him a look of exasperation and gently removed the IV in the man's arm, slapping a cotton ball and a Hello Kitty bandaid over it with utter professionalism, "Ja.. Do not let him schtand up, he should be fine in roughly half an hour.." The German peered at his watch, shaking his head and walking back toward his office.

The Scout buzzed back to life, a mixture of relief and excitement plastered on his face as he tugged his chair closer and began to chat with the Pyro and fill him in on what he'd missed.

Later in the day there was another meeting between the members of the Red team.

Again the mess hall was packed, again everyone was loud and opinionated. It was all the same save for the absence of two of the team's Spies.

In their place stood the two defected Blus, both man and Decaspy. They stood side by side at the forefront of the room, allowing themselves to be subject to scrutiny by the rest of the team as things began to quiet down and lend themselves to discussion.

The Tentaspy looked calm, but his Blu companion could tell that that was not truly the case. Despite the lack of his suit jacket and the obvious blood spatter around the bottom of his shirt and waistcoat, he looked composed.. His tentacles were swept in close to his body, spine rigid and arms folded against it to grant him a stance of utter professionalism. He knew that look.. it was a mask like the type he often wore. Use your job to drive away your true feelings on any matter and you will persevere -- that was standard Spy procedure.

Subtly assuming that posture for himself, the Blu looked out upon all the faces of disapproval and hatred sweeping them men assembled. That was to be expected, wasn't it? He was the enemy up until this morning and even though he could feel the Red tie at his throat, he knew it had little bearing on how he would be treated..

The previously accused Sniper stood next to them both, looking surprisingly casual with his shoulders relaxed and a thumb tucked into his belt loop. He toted his rifle in his free arm daringly, not much caring if it portrayed a more violent image to the members of Red.

He wasn't the least bit nervous today.

One of the Heavies up front clapped his large hands to get everyone's attention as he pointed to the front. "Everybody quiet! Little Spy is speaking!" he informed as the Sniper's friend stepped away from him thankfully and stood up to the same podium they had used last time, "Good afternoon, jhentlemen, I hope you are enjoying your free time?"

That didn't amuse anyone but at least there were no angry shouts.

He continued, "Clearly some decisions have been reached -- we have gained new members to zhe cause.." Murmurs passed themselves around the room though the Spy made sure to speak over them, "Zhese men here are on probation. For an unspecified amount of time, zhey will be monitored to assure zheir loyalty. As I am sure you have been made aware, our Sniper eez not one of zhese men. I do believe his loyalty speaks for itself at zhis point.." Stealing a glance toward Pierce, he nodded and then addressed the crowd, "You may rest at ease, jhentlemen. Zhe threat has been subdued and you will be informed as soon as a move is scheduled. Zhat is all. Questions will be taken for zhe next two hours, zhose who wish to leave may do so now."

And that's how it went.

Many men cleared out after that, taking the words at face value while the more curious classes, mainly Scouts, Medics, Snipers, and one or two Pyros stayed behind to question the men assembled up front.

When it was all over, everyone had gone but the two Blus, the Red Sniper Pierce, his Spy friend Pierre, and the shorter Spy whose name had not yet been openly passed. The Blu captive wanted to feel relief, but it simply wasn't forthcoming as he glanced toward Pierre and shrugged his shoulders, "Well.. Eez zhat everything?"

The Sniper and the Tentaspy said nothing, looking toward the Red Spies for instruction. The shorter of the two nodded subtly, "All should be in order.. Zimply remember not to remove your ankle bracelet at any time and we should be in business.."

Pierre cut in, adjusting his tie and puffing a bit of smoke at the ceiling, "A dorm 'as been set up for you, cause no trouble and you shall receive none. Wear your armbands at all times to avoid being shot and I do believe zhings shall move along smoothly."

"What about him?" the Aussie asked, gesturing to the Blu Tentaspy standing dutifully beside him with an arched brow marring his otherwise emotionless face.

The shorter Spy hummed.. They really hadn't decided on that point yet.. Pierre swooped to the rescue, filling in the silence with a quick reply, "Speak with zhe Engineers. No doubt zhey will be able to come up with somezhing."

"Ah.. so much deliberation on my account," the Decaspy said, a smile playing across his lips as he unfolded his arms and let them rest more comfortably at his sides, "Merci, Messieurs, eet eez much appreciated."

"Well, we best get movin' then, mate," the Sniper offered, nodding toward the door. Soon after that, the pair left together and Pierre graced the Blu Spy's side.

"Come, I will show you to your room, Monsieur," he said. The Blu looked at him with an eventual sigh and lowering of his shoulders. He smiled, attempting to look pleased though he couldn't shake that feeling of scrutiny..


	16. Act 16: Shippin' out

_Team Fortress 2 and its characters belong to Valve. Most of this stuff remains canon; teams are portrayed in a more realistic manner (or as realistic as you can get with a game like this) while trying to stay true to the personalities of the characters involved. Have fun reading or simply close out of it if you don't._

_Cheers._

P.S.: Sorry for the wait, had to think of a transition chapter, but I have some ideas now.

P.P.S.: SEE THE BOTTOM.

"Look, mates, when I said 'we need a fishbowl' I wasn't bein'.. you know, serious," said Pierce, his hand at the back of his neck as he watched a team of Engineers putting the finishing touches on what looked like an eight by fourteen foot fish tank on wheels.

His friend from the hangar was grinning, hooking up a black box at one side of the tank that had 'O2' printed down the side with white, water-resistant paint. "Sorry, partner, we're all gonna be movin' on shortly, can't get _too _set up in this here base."

The Sniper grumbled a bit and nodded with grudging agreement.

The Tentaspy had been out of the water for almost a week now, occasional trips to the showers being the only thing keeping him comfortably hydrated. Without a proper room to call his own, he'd been staying in the infirmary and lending several hands to the Medics who were being kind enough to accept the abomination into their workspace. Hopefully this tank would ease off some of that dry time, though he hoped it wouldn't degrade him too much to be stuffed in a box like this.

"Hey, any word on that truck?" asked one of the lankier Engineers as he tossed a line of tubing up to one of his colleagues and turned his goggled gaze on the Sniper.

Another truck had been sent out two days ago after a bit of information had been passed on by the Decaspy. They had a rough idea of where to look now and only just this morning had plans been laid out. "Yeh," said the Sniper, hands lowered to his belt where he poked his thumbs into the loops, "HQ says we're clear to move tomorrow. We'll be settin' up base out in the middle uh nowhere s'far as I can tell."

"Man," the Engie groaned, shuffling back to his work station.

The hangar-bound Engineer just laughed and descended the ladder he'd been standing on, "Aw, don't sweat it. Heck.. It's been too long since I've gotten to design anything!"

The Sniper gestured to the rather enormous tank beside them at which the Engineer waved a dismissing hand, "No way, I'm talkin' _big_. A whole base! Gosh darn golly, can ya just imagine.." Pierce could swear the man would have stars in his eyes if his goggles weren't blocking the view.

They only had a few short months before the snow would start to fall, and if they didn't have shelter by that time..

The Aussie didn't even want to think about what would happen. "Well then," he said, "I guess it's good HQ's sendin' more temp. Engies our way. You'll have your dream base in no time, mate."

Looking entirely too happy, the Engineer hefted up his wrench and tapped his hard hat knowingly. "S'_only_ a matter uh time, ain't it? Alright, boys! How's she comin'?" he asked, turning away from the Sniper to go and help with the final additions to the tank. Pierce took it as his permission to leave, smiling and bowing out of the work area.

Time seemed to pass in the blink of an eye after that.

The previously lost men came together at the idea of moving to where fighting would surely be. Men who had started to become calm suddenly flared back to life at the promise of conflict. Some were excited, some were terrified, some didn't even care one way or another, but _everyone_ was preparing for the move to come. Dorms were being packed up and equipment was being transferred to the Red train which had been crane-lifted onto the Blu tracks. The previously settled Red base steadily began looking more and more like the stripped Blu base as the day went on.

The young Medic tried not to think anything of it as he pushed up the heavy door of what had previously been an enemy hangar.

As he walked the empty halls, he marveled at the perfect silence inside..

He rounded the corner, stepping toward the enemy barracks as the sound of his falling boots echoed eerily up the hallway. The alarms were still mounted on the walls, their bells silent as he walked right past them completely unarmed. Over both shoulders he had brought carrier bags marked with a bright red cross in the middle. Usually meant for carrying medical supplies, they would be put to a different task today.

_'Monsieur Medic, a moment please..' _the Blu Spy had said.

Naturally, the young doctor had been wary of the man ever since he was released from the infirmary. In the end, however, he had heard him out after being approached in the mess hall over a cup of English tea.

As it happened, the Spy's intentions were entirely noble. He briefly explained the anklet the Red Spies had instructed him to wear, informing him of the strict probation he had been put on. He hadn't come to ask anything devious of the Medic, only that he go in his stead to the old Blu base and retrieve a few personal effects. In a time of peace and liberation from his usual duties, how could he refuse?

So there he stood, all by his lonesome in an area which must have once been crowded and thick with enemy traffic. Something about the place aside from its temperature made the Medic shiver through his coat, but he didn't intend to stay long enough to find out why.

He made use of the key which had been taken from the Spy during his capture, letting himself into one of the rooms warily.

No traps? No traps.. good.

Not thirty seconds later and he stepped back out of the room to check the number painted on the door. He looked at the room, he looked at the key, he looked at the door number. .. really? Deciding he really _had_ entered the correct area, he went back inside and stared at what lay before him.

Neon green - the bed sheets were _Neon. Green_.

The color sickened him to the point of queasiness, and the rest of the room wasn't any better. Everything looked like a rainbow had vomited all over it, bright flashy colors painting the walls and briefly reminding the Medic of a teenage girl's bedroom somewhere far outside the reaches of this battle. Most everything in here was modern and kept in neat piles and shelves, but still.. Neon? So much of it? He lifted an eyebrow upon opening a dresser drawer.

Zebra patterned skinny jeans..

The round-up was an.. interesting experience, to say the least. The Medic couldn't be out of there fast enough, his hurried steps weighed down by the filled bags he was carrying. In his hands he held a small book with great care - it was something the Blu Spy had made a special emphasis on obtaining. The Medic had leafed through it to be sure it wasn't anything damning, finding it to be written entirely in French and thus entirely outside his realm of comprehension.

In time he got it all to the Spy who in turn packed it onto the train where everyone else was loading their things. He decided it best to _not _address the thong he'd found.

After that, it was all squared away..

Almost everything but the men of RED team themselves had been stacked and stowed on the train, a hushed silence falling over everyone as they prepared for what would be at least a few days' journey not to mention the rapid construction that would follow. Tomorrow morning they would be saying goodbye to the comfortable Red base, it's sturdy steel hallways and arching hangar halls being left to be demolished by HQ's clean-up force which would leave the Reds in charge of constructing their own lodging out in.. wherever it was they were being dispatched.

With the frames of their beds packed onto the train cars, the men were reduced to sleeping on their mattresses. Even the newly-constructed Tentaspy tank and the beds of the infirmary were stashed there. As a result, the Decaspy found himself boarding with Pierce for the night. They had discussed it that afternoon, but as the masked man lay on his back right next to the Sniper, he began to realize just how surreal it was to be sharing a sleeping space with someone. It was only a mattress, of course, but it may as well have been a four-post bed as far as he was concerned.

There was something.. foreign about it. About being allowed even the simplest of pleasures like this.

It had been close to a year since he could remember having the freedom to go where he pleased and be treated with any measure of respect. Limited human contact.. limited reassurance to remind him that he had even been _alive_ during those horrifying months of solitude.

But here he was, laying in a perfectly silent dorm room with regulated air temperature, a soft mattress, and the comforting presence of a close friend shoulder to shoulder with him. After some time, the Spy turned his head to observe the Sniper. Ah.. He looked to be completely at ease; at least, as much as he could be when basically laying on the floor without a blanket. His eyes were closed, his hat was off.. The Red looked completely vulnerable - certainly not like the man he was used to seeing around base.

After staring for what had to be fifteen minutes, the Tentaspy slowly reached over and hovered the fingers of his right hand just beneath the man's chin. He pressed an index finger against it, very subtly turning the Sniper's head toward himself at a pace that even the vigilant Aussie wasn't able to detect. It made the Spy smile..

/

**ATTN: The tail end of this sequel has been changed into the beginning of the next. This story has been given a new title and the third story in the series is now 'Before You Become the Devil.' Many apologies for the confusion and wait time. Thank you for reading!**


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